So Say We All
by BossaNovaBaby24
Summary: My take on the final season. Set immediately after "Crossroads part 2". After Kara's mysterious return, and the revealing of 4 of the final five cylons, not everything on board Galactica is as it seems ...
1. She's a Cylon

**Authors Note**

**Ok, here's my next story. It's called "So Say We All"**

**Updates will be quite fluent hopefully.**

**Spoilers for season 3**

**Set after season 3. My take on season 4. I started this before seaosn 4 was aired so any similarities are purely coincidental!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters what-so-ever, so please don't sue. If you're still keen on suing me, then do it over the story that you think is the best. Leave me a little bit of ego as I go to prison.**

**Corridor**

**Battlestar Galactica**

"Remind me again why I'm coming with you?" Colonel Tigh asked, walking side by side with the Admiral.

"Because the fight is over," Admiral Adama replied, his gaze fixed steadily on the corridor in front, "and I'll need your help identifying Kara, if it's really her."

Tigh opened and closed his mouth. After his revelation, he was not sure how to act around his friend anymore. Kara was not a cylon, he knew that much, but telling the Admiral that would raise questions, such as why his sudden change of attitude towards the unruly pilot. A few days ago, he would have jumped at the chance of putting Starbuck in the brig, and he shouldn't act any different now, or else they might suspect him. Tigh did not want Adama figuring out on his own. He would tell him, in his own time. Not doing so would be cowardice and, cylon or not, Saul Tigh was no coward.

"If you want my opinion, that frakking thing is not Starbuck. Come on Bill, her ship exploded, witnessed by Apollo-"

"Which is why," Adama interrupted curtly, "she could still be alive. After the trial, I don't give anything Lee says much credit." His tone held finality, and Tigh immediately shut his mouth, striding towards the docking bay with the Admiral.

As they moved swiftly through the corridors, they were met with many of the crew. Most saluted and carried on their duties, but some craned their necks, or followed discreetly at a distance, awaiting Adama's verdict on what was going on.

**Docking Bay 1#**

**Battlestar Galactica**

The docking bay was (for lack of a better word) a mess. The Galactica took quite a few hits during the last battle with the Cylons, and most of the damage seemed to be contained to the docking bays. Fortunately, no fleet ships were docked at the time, and the Colonial One seemed to have set off before the attacks.

"Admiral on deck!" Someone shouted from the far end of the bay. Everyone seemed to stop, and in perfect unison, all saluted. Adama walked forwards purposely, throwing a casual "at ease" in recognition of the crew. His eyes, however, rested on one of the vipers that had landed haphazardly in a heap towards the starboard side of the bay. Pilots were slowly extricating themselves from their vipers, some groaning in pain of being crushed in between two ships, and others walking haphazardly towards the nearest head, hands over mouths.

Attention was drawn to the last remaining two pilots in their vipers. The vipers were tangled together, much like in their first encounter with Cylons near Ragnar Anchorage.

His musings were interrupted by the opening of the first viper. In the far left ship, a pilot emerged suddenly. The Deck hands surrounding the viper quickly pulled a ladder up to the seat, and the pilot stumbled down them, onto their knees. With slow precision, they removed their helmet, and Adama felt his heartbeat quicken.

Lee Adama got up off of his knees, his balance off. Stumbling slightly, he pushed his way past many of the confused crew members, and leant against the other Viper for support. At that moment, the second viper opened.

Everyone stood with baited breath, their gazes' intent on the pilot who was emerging from the landed bird. The pilot slowly exited down a hastily set-up ladder, and stood safely on the hangar deck. Lee's head shot up to watch as they took of their helmet.

Kara Thrace slowly lowered her helmet to the ground and looked around at everyone in the bay. Her attention was suddenly drawn to Lee, before she smiled mischievously and said;

"Wow Lee, you never told me there'd be a party."

The words seemed to ring in the air, and caused everyone to come to life. Many members of the deck gang cheered, patting each other on the back, while others just continued to stare from Lee to Kara, confused.

Lee's face lit up, and he ran towards Kara. He proceeded to pick her up and spin her around, before tightening his arms around her and pulling her into a tight hug. They seemed content to just stay like that forever.

"You didn't lose me this time." Starbuck's voice came, muffled in Lee's shoulder.

_Gods it's been too long, _Lee smiled into Kara's hair. Guns clicked in the distance and Lee was brought out of his thoughts. As he turned around slowly, Kara still in his embrace, he noticed that there were many guards surrounding them. Lee's smile vanished as quickly as it appeared. _They can't possibly think that-_

"Admiral," Starbuck said, saluting smartly. She seemed to be the only one, however. Adama regarded her coldly, and Tigh beside him kept his hand out, indicating to the marines not to drop their guns, which were trained on both Lee and Kara.

"Kara," Lee suddenly spoke up from behind her, "Where have you been? It's been ages! I saw … I saw your ship _explode _for fraks sake!"

"What?" Kara asked, confused, "I've been gone for like six hours! And my ship didn't explode. I told you Lee, I've been to earth."

Tears stung Lee's eyes, but he held them back. Standing in front of him was Kara. _His _Kara. The unruly woman, violent and sarcastic. The best damn viper pilot ever. Kara Thrace had returned. That thought alone made Lee want to pull her into another hug, but he couldn't, not yet. Not when there were answers to be had.

"Months you've been gone Kara. In that time, you're telling me that you've been to earth?"

"No way have I been gone that long Lee. And yes I've been to earth. I can take us there. At this moment, we need to head back towards the other side of the Ionian Nebula and-"

"Kara?"

Kara closed her eyes, taking in the voice that sounded from behind her. Lee slowly moved backwards, his eyes never leaving the woman in front of him. Kara slowly turned around, and was greeted by Sam Anders. He stood only a few feet away, but the distance was enough to let Kara know that he was cautious. He couldn't believe it. Kara stood only a short distance away, in person. He had lost part of himself when he heard of her death. Many emotions rose up within him.

"Sam?" Her voice was quiet, but Lee could hear traces of surprise. _Perhaps she thought that he would want nothing to do with her. That he'd moved on in life, _he thought.

Sam quickly limped forwards, his grimace at the exertion on his bad leg second to the ever-growing smile on his face. He pulled her into his arms, and placed his face in her hair, breathing in her scent. He never wanted to forget that scent, never wanted to let her out of his arms again. His muffled laughs of joy could be heard, and Kara relaxed into his embrace, smiling slightly.

Guns rose to meet her new position, and Starbuck was brought out of her welcoming by the sound of safety triggers clicking off. As if on cue, Admiral Adama moved forward. Kara reluctantly pulled out of Sam's embrace, and stepped forward to meet the Admiral and Colonel.

Casting a brief glance at Anders, Tigh nodded imperceptibly and looked back towards the scene before him. Kara now looked slightly wary, as she saw the amount of marines surrounding her.

"Are you Kara Thrace?" Adama asked calmly, staring intently at her through his glasses. Kara's eyes widened slightly, and she smiled.

"Yes I am," She confirmed, standing slightly straighter.

From beside the Admiral, Tigh snorted derisively. Both Adama and Kara turned towards him questioningly, but he didn't pay attention. He indicated for the marines to move forwards, before turning to Adama and saying;

"This _thing _is not Kara Thrace. It's a cylon-"

"I am _not _a frakking-"

"-that's impersonating her to get detailed information from the fleet!"

Kara stared fixedly at Tigh, looking disgusted, before replying calmly;

"So kill me then Colonel. Go on, you did it to your wife."

Tigh suddenly stopped talking and he stood stock still, his face not betraying any emotion.

"How did you know about that?"

Kara smiled in triumph, her eyes glittering dangerously.

"What's wrong Colonel?" She whispered, so only those surrounding her could hear, "you look like you've seen a ghost."

"Silence!" commanded Adama from beside Tigh. He was looking at the man beside him, concern etched on his face. With one quick cursory glance at Kara, he continued;

"Colonel Tigh, you have the ball."

Tigh's shoulders slumped in relief, knowing that he had his tracks covered. He turned towards the marine nearest to him and pointed at Kara, his expression serious.

"Take that thing to the brig, Marine."

The sound of guns clicking and men moving forward were lost in the sea of protests. Anders and Lee both shouted in frustration, grappling the marines as they came forward. The marines quickly overpowered them, and held them back forcefully as they grabbed Starbuck.

"Wait!" Lee shouted, panicked, desperately trying to release himself from the marines grip, "She's not a cylon, Dad! She's telling the truth!"

"She's not a frakking cylon!" Anders roared, panting in exertion as he was pushed onto the floor, "She's Kara! Don't do this Admiral!"

Adama looked towards the struggling men, and then back at Kara, who was being slowly dragged away, her limbs flailing in retaliation. He drew a long breath and his eyes hardened underneath his glasses. He turned, grim faced, to the marine holding Lee.

"Take him to the brig aswell, marine. He is under arrest for commandeering a military vessel when not on flight status. That's an order."

He abruptly turned around, him and Tigh trailing Kara out of the hangar bay doors. Kara was not giving up though. She pushed at one of the marines faces, and ripped another one's jacket, before screaming;

"I know where earth is you sons of bitches!"

She kicked out, and caught a marine in the knee. His leg buckled, sending all of them, including Starbuck to the floor. As they moved to get up, she writhed against the floor, screaming;

"I know where earth is! You're going the wrong way!" With that, she was carried out of the door, followed by a resigned Lee Adama, and leaving Sam Anders, disbelief etched on his face, in their wake.


	2. Brig Talk

Authors Note

**Authors Note**

**Disclaimer in first chapter.**

**Second chapter is up and running. Enjoy!**

**Galactica Brig**

**Battlestar Galactica**

Kara sat in her cell, looking at the wall opposite. She had been in the brig for a quite a few hours now, but the novelty still hadn't worn off. _They think I'm a frakking cylon, they have got to be kidding me, _she thought, rolling her eyes. Her cell was quite spacious, but apart from a bed and a chair, there was nothing to occupy her time. Her only release was that Lee Adama happened to occupy the cell next to hers. He was sullen and secretive, but every so often, she'd find a way to wind him up and make him talk. He seemed reluctant to talk about what had happened in the few hours she was gone (he was still insisting it had been weeks) and she made it her aim to find out what had happened.

It had been a full hour since Lee had last spoke. He was lying on his bed, eyes slightly closed and a frown playing on his lips. Even though he was lying down, he still seemed tense, as if expecting someone to come in and shoot him at any moment. Judging by the looks the crew were giving him, Kara surmised that it was a good possibility, and the guards she realised would probably congratulate whoever did, while feeling mutinous that they couldn't shoot him themselves.

Kara resigned herself to lying down yet again on her bed, knowing full well that her requests would be ignored. _Stupid frakking Tigh, _she thought bitterly, _making my life hell. _

"So Lee," she casually said, turning her head in her pillow to face the man in the cell opposite, "you gonna actually talk?"

Lee's eyes flickered open and she prided herself in seeing a small smile flicker on his face.

"Wow, brig must be taking its toll on you. Kara Thrace wants to _talk_."

"Cut the crap Lee," She said, although she was smiling widely at his comment. Lee was back, "why are you here beside me in brig?"

"Moral support." he replied mockingly, shifting himself. He sat up on the bed, resting on one of his elbows and facing Kara.

"I will come over there and hit you if you don't answer."

"From behind big metal bars, no-ones _that _good."

"No-ones me. I'm Starbuck. _The _amazing Starbuck."

"I know you are." Lee's voice was quiet and honest, giving Kara hope. His answer had other subtle meanings. He thought she was human. That alone made Kara lighten up.

"Seriously Lee, why are you here?"

"I commandeered a military vessel while not on flight status," he recited his father's words mockingly, "and helped a possible cylon into our fleet."

"Touché," Starbuck commented, looking at the ceiling of the brig, "however, the Old Man seemed to be _very _mad at you. And something tells me that taking a viper and bringing me back to the nest only scratches the surface of it. Why are you not on flight status?"

"I resigned," Lee sighed, his eyes looking now at his plain bed spread. He slowly started to twist his wedding band on his finger, "Admiral wasn't impressed when I defended Baltar in the trial. The President was even less impressed when he was innocent."

"Whoa, hold up there," Kara quickly replied, focusing all of her attention on him, "you defended Gaius Baltar? The amazing frakweasel _Gaius Baltar?_"

"Yeah, the 'amazing frakweasel Gaius Baltar'." Lee recited, frowning.

"Gods Lee, why? He caused so many people to suffer down on New Caprica. He was a greasy, slimy frakwit. I would have pulled the trigger myself on him given the chance."

"Yeah well, I was doing it for justice, pure and simple. Even Baltar deserved a fair trial. Anyway, in the process, I had an argument with dad and also revealed a secret to the court that the President didn't want known. All in all, _I'm _the frakwit."

With that, he flopped back down on his bed and turned away from Kara. She, in turn, slowly got up off her bed and moved towards the bars separating the two cells.

"Tough job Lee." She said quietly, her face betraying no emotions.

"Yeah tough job," Came Lee's reply from over his shoulder, "so … earth?"

Kara noticed that he was keen to change the subject, and let him. There was no point making him any moodier than he was at that moment.

"Yeah Lee," she said, the corners of her lips curling upwards, "earth."

They both fell silent, enjoying the solace they found in the knowledge that they were both within distance of eachother.

"How's Dee?"

Lee turned over, looking at Kara under half-closed eyelids. He moved his head on his pillow to get more comfortable before replying;

"I don't know. I haven't seen her since the trial. She left me." He added quickly, seeing Kara's confused expression. Her face showed understanding. She knew what it was like to lose a partner, albeit it was her own decision.

"Aww," she said mockingly, smiling, "is Lee starting to regret defending Baltar?"

"Cut it out Kara," he replied curtly, "Like I said, I did it for truth and justice-"

"Cut the preachy crap Lee," Kara interrupted, annoyed, "you did it to step out of daddy's shadow, no doubt. As far as I'm concerned, Baltar should be dead."

"The Admiral and President would agree with you then," Lee stated, moving to a sitting position. He looked straight at Kara, his gaze intense, "They were all too happy to send him out the airlock given a chance."

"Smart leaders," Kara said, snorting derisively, her arms hanging through the bars, "They've got the right idea-"

"I get it Kara, ok!?" Lee shouted, frustrated, "I screwed up, I …" His voice faltered and broke, "I screwed up …"

"Yeah you did Lee," Kara said seriously, staring intently at him, "but what else is new?" She was being hard on him, she knew, so she decided to lighten the mood slightly, "You're starting to catch up with me on the Brig tally, you know."

She pointed at the wall behind her, where there were tally marks scratched there. Lee looked over, and saw that the person marked "K" was on five, whereas the person marked "L" was on two.

"Who's 'R'?" He asked curiously. Whoever 'R' was, they were on one.

"The President." Kara replied casually, as if having one of their leaders in the brig was an everyday occurrence.

"Well," Lee said, laughing lightly, "I don't think anyone will catch up with you. Tigh wouldn't allow it."

This caused them both to laugh. Kara felt her legs give way beneath her, and she slid down the bars, still laughing. Lee had given up all hope of controlling himself and was spread out on his bed, groaning from the pain in his stomach from laughing so much. After a while, the laughter subsided, interspersed with the occasional snort or guffaw.

"Frakking idiot," Kara whispered from the floor, clutching her stomach, still smiling, "He's been wanting this since I first came on this ship."

"Well, I heard he missed you when you were gone. Missed your chatter over the comm."

"I'm touched," Kara replied sarcastically, grinning.

"It's good to have you back Kara." Lee said sincerely, meeting her gaze.

"It's good to be back Lee." She replied, the smile slowly slipping off of her face at the thought of what was to come.

**Cylon holding cell**

**Battlestar Galactica**

"What do you think they're going to do to you?"

The voice brought Caprica six out of her sleep. She looked around bleary eyed, for the source of the voice. There was no-one else in the cell with her. No-one else in the room _outside _of the cell. The slight click from outside the hatch reminded her that she was a top security prisoner, and that at least three guards were posted outside. So how did someone get in? The cell around her was dark, and she could barely make out the edges of her bed. Her eyes needed time to adjust to the dark, after being woken so abruptly. She moved her arms and wrapped them around her, sitting up now on her bed. Caprica six held the covers around her. Her outfit was hardly suitable for such temperatures. A slight rustle from behind startled her. Turning cautiously, Caprica six felt a hand lightly brush against her arm. She closed her eyes, and breathed in. Some-one was in the room with her, and yet the guards showed no sign of helping her. Who would come visit her in the middle of the night? Unless it was not anyone. Well not anyone _physically _she realised … it was-

"So. What do you think they'll do with you?"

"Go away Gaius," She whispered, her eyes closed.

"Oh now, come on," He replied, an arrogant smile playing on his face, "You can torture me this way, and yet I can't return the favour?"

_You're in my head, you're in my head, _Caprica six thought over and over again, her eyes still closed.

"They won't keep you around forever you know," Gaius said casually, pacing slowly around the bed. He stopped and turned towards her, "as soon as they're finished with you, they'll throw you out of the airlock."

Caprica Six sat there, contemplating his words. To anyone outside of the cell, she would be talking to herself, but to her, the man standing in front of her was real. She could see him, smell him, touch him, and yet she couldn't understand his reason for being here.

"They need me for now. They need me to help out with the dreams. I'm safe here, for now."

Gaius breathed in slowly, smiling, "For now, the two key words here. I don't think your great big toaster in the sky is going to help you now. No god is going to help you out of here, but you already know that. You've accepted it."

"Death is not the end," Caprica six replied slowly, "not for me anyway. I'm here because Hera needs to be protected."

Baltar sighed dramatically, and his tone became patronising.

"That's not _just _why you're here though, is it? You're here because you choose to be. You want nothing more than to make peace with these humans … these 'lesser beings' in the eyes of your race and your 'one true God'."

Suddenly, Baltar stopped pacing and sat down on the bed beside her. He placed his hand over hers, and slowly brought her hand up to his lips.

"You're here out of love. Whether it's love for one person or for the whole race, that's why you're here. You wouldn't want to be anywhere else," He quickly changed his demeanour, "and here I was thinking that Cylons couldn't feel emotions."

"I do feel emotions," Caprica six gritted her teeth in anger, "I love you Gaius."

"Prove it."

Caprica six looked into his eyes. They showed wisdom and knowledge, but also a hint of arrogance and paranoia.

"How?" She asked warily, her gaze never wavering. But he was gone.


	3. Meeting Arrangements

Authors Note

**Authors Note**

**3rd chapter up. Hope you like it.**

**CIC**

**Battlestar Galactica**

"Lt Gaeta, sitrep." Adama commanded, looking fixedly at the Dradis console.

"No Dradis contact sir, but the magnetic fields in this nebula are playing hazard with our computers."

"I take it that the magnetic fields generated were what caused our fleet to power down."

"At this moment in time sir, it looks that way."

"Very well, keep me updated Lt."

"Yes sir."

Lt. Felix Gaeta turned back towards the screen he was just checking. His back ached from lack of rest, and he felt like he was going to collapse. Sixteen hours he had kept standing, hunched over the screens before him. The rest of the crew gave up telling him to get some rack time. He was needed, now more than ever, to tell the Admiral and XO what was going on throughout the Battlestar.

"Felix," A voice beside him whispered. He turned around, grimacing and rubbing his neck. Dualla stood before him, a clipboard in her hand. She looked like she had not slept in days, her eyelids drooping and the underneath of her eyes were red form exhaustion. She looked like she had been crying recently, but Felix knew better than to pry into her personal life, not after the trial.

_The trial. _The words hit him full force, and he frowned suddenly, remembering the lengths he was willing to go just to see Baltar pay. Gaius Baltar, _frakking genius extraordinaire, _he thought bitterly. There was a time when he had respected the man, even revered him. He had one of the best minds, and Felix had followed him without question. After New Caprica, where did that leave him? Nearly put out the airlock, and committing perjury in court. Things had been so different before. Felix Gaeta was a shining example of the ideal recruit. He studied for years, learning his job as he went. He proved to be invaluable to the fleet, but after Baltar's appearance, it had all gone downhill. He was replaced, and now hated by most of the crew. _For what? _He wondered, _for following that man down to New Caprica. For believing in the same dream as the thousands of others. _But Baltar was a coward. Nothing more than that. And Felix proved himself willing to commit perjury in court, even attempt to kill the man, just to get some retribution for the life he had ruined.

"Lt Gaeta?" Dualla's voice cut through his bitter reminiscing, and Felix found himself looking at her questioningly.

"Yes Dualla?"

"I was going to suggest that you get some rest, but now I recommend it."

"I don't need rest," He replied reassuringly, "If anyone needs the rest it's you."

Dualla gave him a small smile, and pulled the clipboard closer to her chest.

"Just a few minutes Felix. You've been working for at least twelve hours now. A short break will do wonders. The Admiral will be alright without you for a few hours. We can handle it."

Felix offered her a smile in return, and sighed, "I guess a few hours wouldn't hurt. Thankyou Dee," he said sincerely, and Dualla walked off with her clipboard, back to her panel. He saluted to the Admiral, who nodded barely in return, and walked out of CIC to his rack.

As Felix made his way through the corridors, he was stopped frequently. Many just wanted to know damage and fuel reports, while others were asking about the Admiral's agenda on the last cylon battle, and where they were heading next. He managed to sate their thirst for knowledge efficiently, and became more relieved as he saw the door to where his rack was located. He moved towards the hatch quickly, and pushed it open, before a marine stepped out from behind it.

"Lt Gaeta sir." The marine saluted. Felix was taken aback with surprise, before returning the gesture.

"Can I help you?"

"I have a message for you Sir." Gaeta inwardly groaned. He was so close to having a rest. So close yet so far. He sighed and resigned himself to the fact that he wasn't going to be sleeping anytime soon.

"Yes?"

"Someone would like to meet you sir, in the meeting room."

"Did they give a name?"

"No sir, I was just told to deliver the message."

"Thankyou, that'll be all."

The marine left abruptly, striding down the corridor. Felix shut the hatch reluctantly, and slowly made his way to the meeting room.

**Tigh's Quarters**

**Battlestar Galactica**

"Why?"

"Why what?" growled Tigh, looking directly at Tory Foster, his good eye fixated on her. Tory stared back defiantly, sitting slightly straighter on the couch, and crossing her legs.

"Why did you decide to have this little meeting? Do you realise how suspicious this looks?" She asked curtly. The presidential aide shifted slightly, "Do you really expect no-one to notice?"

"Why the frak _would _they notice Foster?" Tigh barked in return. He was anxious, and it showed. He paced the living room area, hands clasped behind his back. It had only been a few days since the revelation, and his fears still hadn't settled. What if someone _does _find out? What if they're executed? He couldn't bear to see the look of betrayal on Bill's face.

Tory, it seemed, was following his train of thoughts. She slumped and an air of defeat emanated from her.

"We haven't exactly made it secret, have we? The off-log calls, the fact that the XO of the ship has excused himself from CIC because he'd rather have a little chat with the presidents aide, a mechanic and a rookie pilot."

"Well what do you suggest?"

"We need to be more discreet. Only meet in emergencies. I don't even see why we need to be meeting right now."

Tigh's jaw clenched, and his good eye glittered dangerously.

"We're frakking cylons Foster! That's why!" He roared, towering over her. He stopped suddenly and glanced at the hatch to his quarters, where Chief Tyrol stood, his mouth hanging open slightly in surprise.

"Wow," Tyrol remarked. He wiped his palms, now covered in sweat and oil, on the front of his uniform, and looked from Tigh to Tory, "I didn't realise we were going public with this."

"We're not," Tory replied seriously, leaning forwards and resting her elbows on her knees, "But Colonel Tigh here is getting slightly stressed about the situation-"

"You're damn right I am," Tigh muttered, wandering towards the hatch. He looked around outside, to make sure that no-one had heard his outburst or saw Tyrol enter the room. They'd have a lot of explaining to do if anyone did, "I've been in the colonial fleet since before you two were born! So forgive me," he added sarcastically, "If I get a little stressed about the fact that I am one of those frakkin' toasters that I have spent my life getting rid of!"

Tigh breathed heavily, his gaze flickering between the two other people in the room. Tory and Tyrol both seemed too dazed at his outburst to contribute to the conversation. Tigh relished in the silence he had created, thinking back to his years in the fleet. After a few moments, Tory let out a long breath, and cradled her head in one of her hands, her eyes closing.

"What are we going to do?"

Silence reigned once again. No-one seemed to have an answer for her, as none of them knew what they were going to do.

"I am Saul Tigh," Tigh announced unexpectedly, looking up, "I am XO of this Battlestar, friend to Admiral Bill Adama, A colonial officer in this fleet, and a-"

"Frakkin' son of a bitch."

All three turned their heads quickly to the hatch. Sam Anders stood there, leaning on his good leg. He was angry. Scratch that, he was _beyond _angry, and it was showing. He radiated heat as he moved into the room, his eyes fixated directly on Tigh. He did not even acknowledge Tyrol or Tory as he pushed forwards, and both knew better than to try and reason with him.

Anders lunged suddenly, pushing Tigh up against the wall behind him. His arm came across, pushing against the Colonels neck, as Tigh struggled to loosen himself from the pilot. Gritting his teeth, Tigh hoarsely whispered;

"And what are you going to frakkin' do now, Nugget?"

"Kara. My wife, Kara! Is in the brig because of you. You lying piece of filth!"

Suddenly, hands gripped Anders and heaved him away from the colonel. Tigh stumbled slightly at the sudden turn of events, and rested back against the wall, gasping for air. Anders started to struggle against Tyrol and Tory, trying fruitlessly to reach Tigh again. He soon realised that it was pointless and he couldn't escape their firm grasp. Sam finally surrendered, feeling their hands loosen.

Tyrol sighed in relief. It took a lot of effort to pull Anders off of Tigh, and for a minute he worried that Anders was too far gone in rage to be stopped. The Chief understood his anger, but he knew that by choking the XO, it would not disappear.

They pushed the now passive pilot into a chair on the other side of the quarters, keeping him distanced. Tigh recovered well from the sudden attack, slowly readjusting his eye patch and breathing heavily.

"Oh you are without a doubt suited to that wife of yours. Both insubordinate, idiotic, temperamental-"

"That's enough Colonel." Tory stated, standing behind Anders. Her hand lightly touched his shoulder, both keeping him seated and reassuring him.

"Yeah we have more important things to worry about." Tyrol said.

Tigh snorted derisively and picked up a glass of Ambrosia, muttering, "understatement."

"There is a chance that Starbuck knows what we are and-"

"I'm not a frakkin' Cylon!"

"Sir, please!" Tyrol shouted, and Tigh fell silent, "There is a chance that Starbuck knows _something _and we need to see if she has any idea …"

They all fell into silence, contemplating the extremity of their situation. It was Tory that spoke up first.

"The brig." She said suddenly. Her triumphant smile was lost on the others.

"This is no time to hand ourselves in Foster." Tigh growled, fixing his good eye on the woman in front of him. Ignoring his remark, Tory turned to the other two men.

"Kara Thrace is being held in Galactica brig," she patiently explained, "one of us goes in there to talk to her. If she knows what we are, then she's bound to say something. Since she's in the brig, no-one will believe her anyway, so we'd be safe."

"Good point," Tyrol conceded, "Anders can go in. She's his wife and the Admiral has _got_ to let him in."

They all glanced towards Tigh for agreement. He swallowed his drink measurably, contemplating their plan.

"It's risky," He stated, placing his glass down, "but it might just work."

Tory smiled slightly. It was all coming together now. She turned expectantly towards Anders, who nodded and smiled at the thought of seeing Kara again.

"Go find the Admiral," Tory told him, "and request a meeting with Kara."

**Note**

**Chapter 4 should be up soon hopefully. I'll try and do it in between the many essays I've got! **


	4. Threats and The Waiting Game

**Authors Note**

**Chapter 4 now up. Thank you to those who are sticking with this.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters what-so-ever, so please don't sue. If you're still keen on suing me, then do it over the story that you think is the best. Leave me a little bit of ego as I go to prison.**

**Meeting Room**

**Battlestar Galactica**

Felix Gaeta slowly pushed open the hatch to the room. He immediately noticed that the lights were off, and he tensed up. There was no logical reason that he could think of as to why the lights would be off if someone wanted to meet him here. He was still alert, even though the fatigue of working such long shifts in CIC was starting to get to him.

Something felt out of place in the room, but as he cautiously glanced around, he couldn't quite grasp what it was. There was almost a sense of foreboding within the room. Many discussions had been held in here, and he had been called in many times to give information, updates and even (he smiled wryly as he thought of the President) guesswork.

"Thank you for meeting with me." The voice was muffled, and was coming from somewhere over by the dais, where many times Felix himself had stood. A small rustle resounded hollowly in the room, and Gaeta remained close to the hatch, his hand hovering out in case he needed to exit quickly.

"Felix, Felix, Felix, come now. No need to be afraid." That voice as it carried towards Gaeta, suddenly seemed so very familiar. Suddenly, without pause, hands pulled at his shoulders, holding him in place. The lights slowly flickered on, the walls around them groaning in exertion, and he saw the face of the man who was talking.

The same hands that were holding him pushed him roughly into one of the chairs. He felt an arm slowly curl around his neck and he struggled against them. _I should have left straight away, _he thought bitterly, _why the hell didn't I leave straight away?_

"I'm not going to hurt you, don't worry." The arrogant, formal tone made Gaeta even angrier, and his struggle increased two-fold. He was not going to talk to him, not after what happened at the trial.

"I thought we'd catch up a little, my friendly little perjurer." Gaius Baltar looked on smugly at the man seated before him. Felix noted that he had finally got rid of the beard and his hair had been cut and slicked back. Baltar noticed him staring.

"Oh, you like the hair?" He smiled and ran his hands delicately over his head.

"Just as slimy as you." Gaeta spat, pushing forward against the restraints and breathing heavily at the exertion. Baltar just smiled, and moved closer.

"Anyway," He replied, pointedly ignoring the last comment, "regretfully I didn't just come here for a little talk. What I'm actually here for, is to ask something of you."

Gaeta slumped back in his chair, realising that the hands were not going to let him go. The arm around his neck flexed menacingly and slowly released him. After hearing Baltar's words, Felix laughed derisively.

"He's not going to help you Gaius." Caprica Six moved forward, running her hand along Baltar's shoulder. She drew up close and rested herself at his side. Her smile was that of mild amusement, as if humans were just toys to her. Toys to be played around with, thrown about and eventually broken, only to be replaced with a new one.

"He will," Baltar murmured quietly, his gaze steady on Felix. The man was sitting confidently for having just been pushed and restrained in a chair. His aura screamed hostility, "he'll have to."

"Have to what?" Gaeta interrupted the non-existent conversation between Baltar and his own conscience.

"I said you'll have to help me."

"I don't help scum like you."

It was Baltar's turn to laugh. He started to pace the meeting room slowly, his gaze never leaving Felix.

"Scum like me? Scum like _me? _Let's take you back," He started, his tone mocking, "to the time of the trial. I trust you remember that?"

Gaeta nodded mutely, unsure of where he was going with this. Baltar continued;

"Ah but of course you remember. Your memory is just that good isn't it? For instance, you must have had a good memory to tell the court that you were there when I signed that order on New Caprica. Better memory than me even, as to be perfectly honest I don't remember you there."

His smile was triumphant and there was a certain manic gleam in his eye that made Gaeta twitch nervously. This man was not sane.

"Perjury, Felix. Really?" His tone indicated that it was a rhetorical question, but Gaeta was ready to interrupt.

"And who is going to believe _you _over _me_?"

"I have witnesses. Witnesses that say you weren't in the room at the time. Oh don't worry, it's not the Cylons I'm talking about. There are people within my following who saw you at the market. Should we have this brought up?"

"I don't care," Gaeta replied curtly, "are we done?"

"Do you know what happens to people who perjure? You'll be put in that brig for a very long time you know, Gaeta. But that's where I can help."

Gaeta looked at Baltar suspiciously, and there was caution in his voice as he asked;

"How?"

"All I want is a little bit of information from you. That's not too much to ask, is it? The final five. I've been told they are close."

"Told by whom?"

"Careful now Gaius, he could be onto you." Caprica Six spoke into his ear, smiling wickedly.

"This idiot?"

"What did you just call me?" Gaeta asked. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. It almost looked as if he was talking to someone else, but Felix couldn't hazard a guess as to who was replying.

"Nothing. Now, I need to know who they are. That's where you come in. All I ask of you is that you tell me if anyone is acting suspiciously."

"How's that going to help you?"

"All in good time."

"And if I refuse your request?"

Baltar moved rapidly, his face within inches of Gaeta's.

"You owe me this Felix. Don't you forget it."

With that, he pulled back slowly, and turned to the people behind Gaeta. He waved his hand casually, saying;

"Put him back where you found him."

A sharp pain suddenly hit Gaeta full force and he felt the surroundings disappear into black …

**Admiral Adama's Quarters**

**Battlestar Galactica**

"Can I get you something to drink?"

"Yes, water will be fine thank you Admiral."

Adama nodded, smiling at the choice of drink. He had the majority of the alcohol in the fleet within his quarters, and the President was requesting water. Turning around, he noted that Roslin was sitting on his couch, her head leaning back onto the wall behind her. He passed her a glass of water, and moved to sit down beside her. After making himself comfortable, Adama took a sip of his ambrosia.

"What do we do about Kara?" Roslin asked, her gaze steady on him from behind her glasses. Adama looked away from her piercing stare and glanced around his quarters.

"I don't know." He stated honestly, taking another sip.

"We can't just leave her in the brig. If she's human as she says, then she said she knows the way to earth. However, if she's not, then we'd be letting a Cylon into the fleet. Is it worth the risk Bill?"

Her question met a stony silence as Adama contemplated her words. It was a big risk if he let a cylon into the fleet. However, he was still at the point where he refused to believe such a thing. Kara Thrace was like a daughter to him, and for someone to think of her as a cylon made his insides burn. He was in an impossible situation. Her ship had exploded, witnessed by his son. It was obvious that her return after a few months was beyond logical, and the idea of her being a cylon proved to be the best explanation.

"I think there's something we're both not seeing here Laura."

Roslin raised her eyebrow, still staring at the Admiral. She gently placed her hand on his arm, before asking;

"What are we missing?"

"I don't know." He scrunched his eyes up in frustration. The trial, the battle, Kara's return, it had all taken its toll on him, and he wished for just a moment that all the decisions would go away.

"I know that you don't want to see her in the brig. I don't either. I just can't find a way around this. Her blood sample is in Life Station as we speak, and until we know more, there's nothing we can do. If she knows the way to earth, then all the time she's stuck in the brig, we could be going the wrong way."

"It's a risk we have no choice but to take. I'd rather be lost and safe, then be guided straight into a cylon trap."

"So we wait?"

"We wait."

"Ok then Admiral," Roslin said, smiling. She stretched her arms out and breathed in sharply. Adama turned to her quickly, putting his glass down on the table in front.

"Are you ok?" He asked, his serious demeanour becoming more pronounced.

"Yes I'm fine." She grimaced in pain, but after a while, it receded and she seemed calmer.

"You should be resting Laura," Adama stated softly, tugging the glass out of her grip. He placed it down next to hers and slowly got up, "you can use the couch."

"No, Bill I can-" Roslin started to protest, but the words died on her lips as he brought out a blanket for her to use.

"Here," He handed it over to her, and moved towards his desk. He pulled the nearest file towards him, and started to peruse the contents.

"Well maybe for a few minutes." Roslin conceded, resting back on the couch.

"Sleep well Laura."

"I hope to."

**A/N**

**Chapter 5 should be up soon, people. I hope you're enjoying it so far! I'm doing this instead of homework and essays so let's hope it's worth it!**


	5. The Nightmares Of Permission

**Authors Note**

**Chapter 5 is now up. I hope that you've retained interest so far. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters what-so-ever, so please don't sue. If you're still keen on suing me, then do it over the story that you think is the best. Leave me a little bit of ego as I go to prison.**

**Admiral Adama's Quarters**

**Battlestar Galactica**

_She knew she was in Bill's quarters, and yet she was not. Looking around the corridor in front of her, she immediately recognised it to be an opera house of some sort. Laura had had this dream many times before, but somehow she knew that this time it was going to be different. She sensed it. Moving forwards slowly, her eyes were captivated by the luxurious décor of the building. Royal colours greeted her and the serene echoing music calmed her nerves. Here she usually felt safe. But not this time. _

_This time, the music playing so softly in the background only heightened her sense of foreboding. Laura moved forward slowly. She was searching for someone. She didn't know who, but then she never did. It wasn't until she found the person, that Laura realised who she was looking for. It always worked like that, she realised. _

_As she moved towards the balcony, she was distracted by a loud giggle. She slowly looked over the railings at the massive hall below her, and was greeted by the sight of Hera, just coming to stop at the bottom of a set of stairs. She looked happy, oblivious of her surroundings, as she playfully darted forward towards the centre of the room._

"_Hera!" Laura called, feeling a sudden and overwhelming urge to protect the child. This was who she was meant to be looking for, this was who she was meant to protect. Her physical distance made it hard for Hera to pay any attention, and the child continued contentedly to walk towards the big doors of the opera house. Looking up, Laura realised that she wasn't alone. Sharon Valerii stood at the other end of the building, also gazing over the railings in helplessness as Hera carried on her expedition. Both locked eyes, and immediately knew that they must reach the child. _

_Laura hurried towards the stairs near her, going down them as fast as her elegant outfit would allow. As she reached the bottom, she noted that Sharon was already halfway towards where Hera now stood. Laura quickly caught up, and both moved towards the little girl, calling to her._

"_Hera, please." Sharon held out her hand and begged her daughter to take it. Hera, however, ignored the gesture and looked towards the door behind her in anticipation. As if on cue, the door slowly opened, revealing a dazzling bright white light. Laura and Sharon both shielded their eyes at the light's intensity, but tried to see as to what was causing it. Two figures slowly emerged from the white, and walked towards Hera. _

_Laura and Sharon both felt a sense of danger as they looked on helplessly. Laura gasped as she recognised the two figures. Caprica Six slowly picked Hera up, cradling her in her arms. Turning towards the two women, she smiled reassuringly, speaking;_

"_Don't worry. The child will be safe." With that, she turned towards the second figure, who both Sharon and Laura recognised as Gaius Baltar, and he slowly opened the doors wider for Caprica Six to leave. Laura had never trusted Gaius Baltar, and was unwilling to let Hera go off in the hands of the man. However, she found she had no choice, as she was rooted to the spot. Usually, her dreams ended about now, but the room around her was still as solid and real as it was before when she was upstairs at the balcony. _

_Caprica Six stopped at the frame of the doors, and turned around quickly. Her face registered surprise and she whispered without thought;_

"_They're close."_

_Laura looked uneasily over her shoulder, where Caprica Six had glued her steady gaze, and was shocked to see five figures standing on the balcony above. They weren't there before, she realised. The figures wore robes, shielding their appearance, and were as bright white as the location outside of the opera house doors. Laura could not tell who they were, as they gazed down at the scene below them. Sharon, who seemed so quiet before, was now screaming. Her body shook and slowly she fell to her knees, her face screwed up as if in pain. _

"_No!" she screamed, clawing hopelessly at the floor, "don't take my child! Please, no!"_

_As Laura looked at the scene around her, she felt oddly detached. Caprica Six moved up slowly behind her, and whispered in her ear;_

"_The final five are here."_

_She reacted to the comment, screaming . . . _

"Laura. Laura!"

A hand was cradling her face and for a moment, she thought that the final five had found her. She thrashed around, finding herself battling against the restraints of her blanket, before she even dared to open her eyes. When she did, relief flooded through her.

Bill was looming over her, his hand gently caressing her cheek. Concern was etched in his expression, his brow knitted together in unease. He noticed that Laura was shaking slightly, her hands unconsciously pulling at the blanket around her, to get more room. Laura stared blankly into Bill's eyes, and she could feel sweat running down her forehead. Her nightmare had never seemed so real, and the introduction of the final five caused her great apprehension.

Bill waited patiently while Laura caught her breath. She noted that he was still in his uniform, and wondered how long she had actually been asleep.

"Do you need to go see Doctor Cottle?" Bill asked gently, his hand still lightly pressed against her cheek. Laura felt calmed by his presence and shook her head.

"No," she whispered. She was relieved that she managed to get some volume, "I need to go see the Cylon prisoner."

If Bill was confused by the order, he didn't show any signs of it. He just nodded and slowly got up, holding out his hand to help her off of the couch.

"Then let's go."

**Corridor**

**Battlestar Galactica**

Anders jogged slowly down the corridor, avoiding the other crew members wandering listlessly around. Kara had always told him he needed to run more, and Anders finally agreed with her. His leg had slowly healed itself, and he finally found the time to take a quick jog around the Battlestar. Luckily, he hadn't got lost once, and he found himself slowly returning to the pilot's quarters.

As he turned up another corridor, Sam came across the two leaders of the fleet. Admiral Adama and President Roslin were walking resolutely, flanked by a few armed marines.

This was his opportunity, Anders realised, to get permission to visit Kara. He jogged on the spot for a moment, waiting for their purposeful strides to land them right in front of him.

As Adama moved to brush past the rookie pilot, Anders spoke;

"Admiral Sir." He smartly saluted, his eyes coming to rest just above Adama's shoulder. Adama seemed intent on reaching a certain destination and, although Roslin faltered as if to talk to the pilot, Adama casually said, "at ease", still moving towards the end of the corridor.

_This is going to be harder than I thought, _he realised. Quickly, he jogged back the way he came in order to catch them all up.

"Admiral Adama!" He called out, trying to halt the man. He succeeded. Adama slowed to a stop and turned around, his eyebrows raised in surprise. Roslin beside him schooled her expression. For some reason, and Anders couldn't figure out why, Roslin looked shaken, and very pale. He blamed the cancer. She must have just had a Diloxin treatment.

"Can this wait?" Adama asked, slowly moving on, but indicating that Anders should keep up. Sam came up beside him.

"I was wondering sir, if I could have permission to see my wife."

Adama stopped dead in his tracks, his shoulders suddenly tensing up. For a moment, Sam wondered if he was going to hit him, but soon let go of that thought. The Admiral would not do that.

"Kara Thrace is a high security prisoner at the moment," Adama stated. He turned towards Anders, and his voice held a slight pang of sympathy, "No-one, unless directly ordered by the President or myself, can go see her."

His tone left no question as to whether the conversation was finished. He turned around and moved away, the entourage of Marines following.

"Wait!"

The order was sharp, and Anders found that it did not come from his own mouth. He turned his head slowly around and saw that President Roslin was still standing nearby, her gaze fixated on him through her glasses.

Adama seemed to stop at once, and backtracked to where Roslin was standing.

"Madam President, may we please discuss this for a moment?" He asked politely. Roslin smiled slightly, and moved away with the Admiral, while Anders stood and waited in anticipation.

The conversation only lasted for a few moments and Adama seemed to have given up. Anders noticed that as they moved back towards him, Roslin was leaning heavily on the Admiral. In fact, it looked as if it was solely Adama who was holding her up. _The cancer must be getting worse,_ Anders thought, and felt a lot of sympathy for them both.

Although she was relying heavily on Adama, Roslin spoke strongly;

"We have decided to give you permission to speak to your wife. However a guard will be there also, in case there is anything of importance that is said." Ander's face lit up and a smile broke out.

"Thank you Madam President! Admiral," He saluted once again, "You won't regret it."

"See that we don't." Adama returned the salute, before starting to walk, once again. They turned round a corner and disappeared out of sight, the faint echoes of their footsteps slowly departing also.

Anders sunk back against the wall behind him, still smiling. He was allowed to go see Kara. His mind ran through the possible scenarios and stopped at one in particular. The smile vanished. He was having a guard posted with him also. That meant that if Kara recognised him as a Cylon, she might vocalise the thought. Then he would be air-locked. Anders shuddered at the thought, and moved off towards the brig. This was going to be interesting.

**A/N**

**Ok people! Chapter 6 should be up quite soon as it is the weekend! I'm sure you'll all be absolutely delighted to know that, by using carefully picked out excuses; I didn't have to write a single essay mwahaha.**

**BSG season 4 on Tuesday for those in Britain! I've heard about the first 2 episodes and they are looking very emotional … **

**Thanks for reading!**


	6. No Love in War, Only Enemies

**Authors Note**

**Chapter 6 for you all!! Hope this story is going ok for you. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters what-so-ever, so please don't sue. If you're still keen on suing me, then do it over the story that you think is the best. Leave me a little bit of ego as I go to prison.**

**Storage Room**

**Faru Sadin**

Gaius Baltar was starting to get very sick and tired of the constant attention. After being led away by some women for refuge, he was flattered that he had at least some support within the fleet, but now …

"Now you wish you were all alone." His head shot up in surprise at the voice. Years he had been plagued and tormented by one woman, and yet she still managed to surprise him. Caprica Six lightly placed her hands on his forearms, moving in close. She breathed her soft words into his ear, and Baltar felt his eyes close.

"Gaius Baltar," She murmured, "the misunderstood genius, wants to be alone."

"Yes I do." He whispered in reply, the lines of exhaustion on his face smoothing out. He was seated on a large cardboard box, surrounded by the mutterings of his followers. They believed him to be a Messiah, a saviour of some sorts. His frequent conversations with Caprica Six did not go unnoticed by them, and they believed that he was being possessed by a greater spirit, one that would guide them to paradise. At first, Baltar had laughed at such an absurdity. However, later on he realised that he could use this to his advantage. A group of devoted followers who would do anything for him, and all he had to do in return was have conversations with a woman in his head. It worked out pretty fair.

At his whispered response, the followers fell silent, gauging his expressions. Baltar could feel the heat of their stares on him and kept his eyes screwed up. Caprica languidly sat herself on his lap, her hands running through his hair. She lightly pressed her lips against his forehead, smiling slightly.

"Heard anything from Felix?" She asked him, pulling her face away slightly. Gaius took a deep breath, trying to control his heart rate, before steadily replying;

"No, not yet. Let's hope that we will soon though." His answers were cryptic. They had to be. If his followers were listening as intently as they usually do, then any form of personalised conversation would not go unnoticed.

Caprica Six's expression turned serious. She regarded the man before her, her eyes lingering over every contour of his face.

"Gaius," She said slowly, making sure he was listening, "They are close. The Dying Leader will lead humanity to earth with the help of another. There will be a war waged within The Five. Only three will survive."

"But I don't know who they are," Baltar replied defensively, "how do I come into this?"

"Oh Gaius, so narrow-minded," Caprica Six laughed lightly. Her voice dropped to a mere whisper, "It's not all about you."

"Then why should I care who they are?"

"Because your life and the lives of many more count on who wins between them," She told him, slowly getting up, "You've got to make sure that the right people win Gaius. Or else our creation, the shape of things to come, will not survive."

Hairs rose on the back of Gaius' neck at her grave warning. He slowly opened his eyes, and looked around the room. A dozen followers sat, eagerly looking at the man before them. He cast a swift glance to check if Caprica was still there. She had gone. Turning back towards his people, he spoke;

"Well? What are you all waiting for!? A divine message!?" He slowly got up, laughed to himself and left the room. The followers glanced at each other confused and exited the room after him.

**Galactica Brig**

**Battlestar Galactica**

Kara paced around her cell like a caged animal. The novelty had long since worn off, and was replaced quickly by anger, insult and depression. She hadn't had a visit since she had been in there, not from the Admiral, not from the President, not from anyone. Lee was still in the cell next to her, but had long since become withdrawn. He no longer talked or joked. Kara might as well be in the brig with no-one. She spent her time studying the Guard. She realised that he left at the exact same time everyday. There was always a two minute gap before the next guard entered. If she wasn't in the brig, Kara would have brought it up. They should be reprimanded for leaving the post unmanned for two minutes. However, Kara was in no such mood to make suggestions.

"Stupid frakkin' bars," she muttered to herself, "Two minutes everyday. Ample escape time and I can't."

The hopelessness of the situation made her want to scream. There was no rest from the hell she was in. Kara Thrace had come back with the hope of finding earth, and not only did they ignore her, they arrested her.

"I'm not a frakkin' Cylon!" She screamed suddenly, before collapsing on her rack. The guard studiously ignored her, his eyes remained trained on the doors to the cells. She was stuck in there.

Just as she yet again contemplated the stupidity of metal bars, the hatch to the brig opened with a long, drawn out groan.

Much to her surprise and that of the guard, Samuel Anders walked in. He was flanked by another marine, who nodded towards the guard sitting down. The guard understood the communication immediately and moved out of his chair, exiting the brig.

Taking the chair, the marine placed it foot away from Kara's cell and indicated to Anders that it was his to sit down on whenever he wished. Anders thanked the marine, who stood straight against the wall a few feet away.

"Sam?" Kara asked, moving cautiously towards the bars. She hadn't been visited in so long, she wondered if this was some sort of trick.

"Kara," Anders said, a smile appearing on his face. As he moved forwards, the marine cocked his gun. _Obviously he's not allowed to get too close, _Kara thought to herself wryly.

"What are you doing here?" She asked. Anders slowly moved back and sat down on the chair given to him. Leaning forwards, he rested his elbows on his knees.

"I asked the Admiral, and he let me."

Kara snorted in disbelief.

"The Admiral let you? Just like that?" There had to be a catch somewhere, Kara knew that much.

"Well, it took minor persuasion from the President also, and I have to be accompanied by a marine." He replied uneasily. Kara just smiled. So the President had something to do with this visit as well. She had more leverage over Adama than Kara first suspected. Not wanting to possibly dwell on that thought, she pushed Anders for information.

"So when am I getting out of here?"

"I don't know. Look Kara, everyone is still shocked about your return. I mean, your ship blew up for cryin' out loud! You turn up in the middle of a battle, with a brand new viper. People are bound to ask questions, you know?"

"It's not like that!" Kara wanted to scream at the top of her lungs. They didn't understand at all, "I went through something and … I saw earth Sam. I saw it. I smelled it. Gods, I touched it for frak sake!" Her hands flew to her head as a wave of nausea hit her. Just the mention of her absence made her feel physically ill.

"Well, until they know for sure, you're going to be kept here."

The statement caused her to flare. She gritted her teeth in anger and shook the bars.

"Get me out of here! You're not going to find it! You're going the wrong way!"

She had exhausted herself. Breathing heavily and pushing away, she noticed out of the corner of her eye that Lee shifted slightly on his rack in the next cell. He was awake and alert, she was sure of it.

"Look Kara," Anders continued, not noticing Lee eavesdropping in the next cell, "When you get out of here, I will be the first to welcome you back. We can have another go at our marriage, a fresh new beginning. We can make it work Kara."

Kara remained silent, mulling his words over in her head.

"No we can't Sam." She replied quietly, her words echoing around the brig.

"Don't say that Kara," Sam said desperately standing up and moving forwards. He ignored the guards warning, "we can! I don't care! Cylon or not, I love you. You're my wife. If you were a Cylon, I would still love you."

He was hinting heavily to her, gauging her reaction to his subtle comments. If she knew he was a cylon, she would have said by now. He had information to take back to the others, but he wanted answers for private thoughts and feelings. Would Kara still love him if she found out he was a cylon?

As if in answer to his thoughts, Kara said;

"If I was a Cylon, I would shoot myself," She stated, moving closer. She pushed her head against the metal bars, "If anyone I cared about were Cylons, I would shoot them. Don't you _ever _say you would still love me, as I would be the enemy. Love doesn't matter in a war, Sam."

Her last sentence was like a bullet to his chest. She might as well have literally shot him. Pain was running through him, but he clung desperately to a dying hope.

"Please Kara," he begged, "We could make it work-"

"You're right," She said, filling Sam with new hope, "We could. But I won't."

Sam's heart shattered. His eyes stung with tears, but he would not let them fall. Not for her. Gathering the remains of his pride, he slowly got up off the chair and moved towards the brig door. Turning around, he regarded his estranged wife one last time, before slamming the hatch shut behind him.

Kara sighed, before moving once again towards her rack. She flopped down onto the hard piece of furniture and turned her head towards the cell opposite. Lee had his back to her, lying down. There was going to be no conversation tonight. She had wanted to Lee to hear it, needed him to. If anything was going to conspire between them, she thought, they needed to know where they stood with each other. Sighing in defeat, Kara turned her body away from Lee and faced the wall, her eyes closing shut.

Lee's eyes slowly opened, and he turned to regard the woman in the next cell. He smiled slightly at what had happened, before closing his eyes again and drifting off into a peaceful sleep.

**A/N**

**Woohoo! Who knows, maybe I'll have another chapter up by the end of the day! If not, then probably tomorrow! Hope you're enjoying it at the moment. I know it's probably a little slow, but that's how I picture it.**

**Anywho, there you go!**


	7. Voting For Survival

**Authors Note**

**Wow I like to call this efficiency. Chapter 7 already? I sure am getting through them hehe ! enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters what-so-ever, so please don't sue. If you're still keen on suing me, then do it over the story that you think is the best. Leave me a little bit of ego as I go to prison.**

**Cylon Holding Cell**

**Battlestar Galactica**

"I know why you're here."

Caprica Six was sitting on the edge of her bed, her hands tightly clasped together. President Roslin was halfway into the cell when the Cylon spoke. She appeared ruffled at Caprica's words, but continued to move towards her.

She knew that Adama was watching the conversation between them, and felt slightly guilty that he would hear of her shared dream visions due to eavesdropping and not her directly telling him. Roslin was apprehensive of the conversation they were going to have to have later. Pushing the thoughts aside, she focussed on the woman in front of her.

"Yes, I'm sure you do." She smiled, but Caprica Six could tell it was forced. She was trying to protect herself, and being presidential was the only way to do that.

"It was different this time. The dream." Caprica Six leaned forward, eager to talk about what the vision entailed. When she had woken from that vision, she was shaken. Never had the final five come into it before. It was as if she could not wake until she saw them. Now, she could sense them, feel them as if they were under her own skin.

"It was," Roslin agreed, bringing Caprica Six out of her thoughts, "you told me, in your dreams, that 'the final five are here'. What did you mean?"

"They were standing on the balcony above us," Caprica Six replied, trying to remember what had happened. It was no use, the dream was slipping from her mind at a rapid pace, "As they stand above us now, mocking us. We do not know who they are. They realise that now. It can be used to their advantage."

"What can you tell me about the Final Five'?" Roslin demanded, her voice soft but full of authority. Caprica Six wrapped her arms around herself unconsciously. She had nothing to tell the woman in front of her. She did not know who the final five were, anymore than Roslin did.

"I can feel them," Caprica Six whispered, "They're close."

"Where are they?"

"In the fleet."

Roslin stared at the woman in front of her, wondering whether she was going to get anymore information than that. Satisfied that this was all the Cylon knew, Roslin turned on her heel and left the cell without another word, leaving Caprica sitting there, deep in thought.

"You didn't tell her." Baltar stated lazily, pulling his head up from the pillow. He was lying on her bed, a cigar hanging out of his mouth. Turning his body towards her, he gently touched her shoulder.

"No, I didn't."

"Why not?"

"I don't know."

Baltar sighed, and dropped his head back onto the pillow. He pulled the cigar out of his mouth, and his eyes slowly closed, "Well I'm sure they're going to be pretty mad at you now, you know? I mean, you could be put out of the airlock for withholding such information." His tone was mocking, and she felt a burning anger.

"Gaius, stop it." Caprica Six closed her eyes, taking deep breaths. When she opened them, Baltar was gone, but his last sentence remained hanging in the air.

"Two are going to try and kill Hera. Two are going to try and stop them. One is going to watch, and it's in this one that the fate of Hera, the fate of the shape of things to come, lies. You should have told them."

"I know." Caprica Six whispered, a tear slipping down her cheek.

**Control Room**

**Cylon Basestar**

Leoben looked in disbelief at the Cavil model before him. Five of their basestars were destroyed after the last battle with the human fleet, and Cavil stood suggesting that they wipe them out.

"If you think about it," Cavil said, emphasising his statement with hand gestures, "We took out four of their ships. That's a lot of humans. It cost us a lot, but we have mainly an unlimited supply. They, however, have no such luxury."

His statement was met with a silence. All the different models had assembled, and were listening intently to his suggestions. None looked happy with his plans.

"Genocide is not the answer," Leoben replied calmly, his hands hovering over the controls. Every so often, he gently touched them with his fingers, altering their course slowly.

A number eight model, Boomer, moved forwards slowly, sizing the Cavil model up. They were standing roughly in a circle, regarding eachother uneasily.

"Hera is onboard," she said, looking around the circle, "She is the shape of things to come. If we annihilate them, there will be no more."

"We agree," A six model, Caprica, also moved forwards, placing her hand gently on Boomer's shoulder, "If we destroy the humans _and_ Hera, we have nothing. We will anger God."

Some nodded in agreement to their statements, while others stood still, deep in thought. Number Five, Doral, frowned at the arguments. He knew that Cavil was looking towards him for his support, but he was unsure as to whether to give it. It seemed a logical plan, but it did not go in accordance to God's plans.

"This is our chance to rid ourselves of the human race," Doral muttered. He hadn't meant to say it aloud, but the models fell silent, listening intently to what he had to say, "we could slowly take them out and find earth."

"And then what?" a number four, Simon, model argued. He was the quietest in the surrounding group, taking everyone's arguments into consideration. Ever the scientist, he preferred to think pragmatically, "With no humans, there is no procreation. Our race will have no more generations. We could face extinction."

"But we can resurrect!"

"For how long? How long before the inevitable happens? Before another disease rids the planet of us?"

"There could be humans on earth." Cavil snapped, his hands gripping the console in front of him. Lately, the arguments between the models had increased in anger and frequency. _There used to be a time when we all agreed, _he thought bitterly to himself.

"The question is," Simon said, finality in his voice, "are we really willing to take that chance?"

The cylons fell silent, regarding their ultimatum. They were either to eradicate the human threat once and for all and risk their own extinction, or wait to be eradicated themselves at the chance they find earth.

"And what of the final five?" Leoben asked suddenly. The rest of the group glanced uneasily at eachother.

"What of them?" Cavil replied curtly.

"They decide the fate of Hera, of our creation. That means that _our _fate rests in their hands."

"There must be someway of finding out who they are," Doral assumed, "we could make sure they help us. Make sure they bring the hybrid child to us."

"There is one way," Sharon spoke out, looking around at the other models. Most seemed oblivious to what she was suggesting. Leoben, however, smiled in understanding.

"Yes," He whispered, "Unbox number three. She knew who they were."

"Absolutely out of the question," Cavil announced, his hands thrown up in the air. Muttering around him grew, as the cylons realised the implications of what was being suggested, "she sinned for the purpose of finding out something she wasn't meant to!"

Simon glanced around, before focusing his attention on Cavil in front of him, "maybe we should vote?"

The group fell silent once again, deep in thought about what they should vote for.

"We are in favour of unboxing D'anna." Leoben stated, on behalf of his models.

Caprica stepped forward, "The sixes agree." Silence reigned on as each cylon representative moved forward to make their vote.

"The eights agree." Boomer stated, smiling slightly at the look of outrage on Cavil's face.

"The fours agree." Simon announced suddenly, much to the surprise of those surrounding him.

Doral looked around, and then moved forward slowly. His vote was the key. His opinion was important enough to turn the tide. Taking a deep breath, he spoke;

"The fives agree."

Cavil suddenly changed his expression from that of loathing to one of defeat. "Well," he said, "I know defeat when I see it. D'anna will be resurrected."

**Galactica Brig**

**Battlestar Galactica**

Lee was pulled out of his sleep by the sound of sharp echoing footsteps. They seemed to be drawing nearer to the brig, and he sighed in frustration. Every time a guard changeover occurred in the night, he was woken because of it. He hadn't had a peaceful sleep since before the trial.

Glancing at the guard outside his cell, however, Lee realised that this wasn't a changeover. The guard looked just as confused as him. Suddenly the hatch wheel spun, and the door was pushed open. Lee winced as the long creak rang in his ears.

Adama stepped through, nodding towards the guard as he did. The guard saluted smartly, and exited the brig. It was just Lee, Adama and a sleeping Starbuck in the room.

"Admiral, sir." Lee stated, saluting from behind the bars. He did not need to, as he was no longer part of the Galactica Crew, but he found that old habits die hard.

"Son," Adama said softly, returning the salute. Both took the time to glance over each other. Adama noticed that Lee looked tired, with an air of defeat around him. So much had happened since the trial, and he was sure that his son had yet to be able to come to terms with it all. As Lee glanced over his father, he in turn noted that the Admiral seemed very relaxed, in spite of all that had happened.

Adama unlocked the cell door, and stepped aside, leaving Lee a clear path to the door of the brig. Lee looked uncertainly at his father. He was wondering whether this was some sort of trick. When he realised that Adama was serious, he slowly stepped out and walked around. Being inside a small cell for so long had been almost intolerable.

"I need to talk to you in my quarters." Adama told him, as he guided Lee out of the brig.

**A/N**

**next part up soonish. I hope you're understanding it so far. If it's too jumpy for you, please do say. Its just that there are so many threads from season 3 to tie up that i have to sort of jump around to try and cover them all. **


	8. Government Man

**Authors Note**

**Chapter 8 for you all. A Battlestar Galactica story is nothing, I find, without an Adama/Roslin moment. So you'll have to put up with it in this chapter I'm afraid. Reviews welcome. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters what-so-ever, so please don't sue. If you're still keen on suing me, then do it over the story that you think is the best. Leave me a little bit of ego as I go to prison.**

**Admiral Adama's Quarters**

**Battlestar Galactica**

Lee reluctantly entered his father's quarters. The last time he was here, he remembered, he had given Adama his viper wings and proudly resigned from the Galactica Crew. The quarters now seemed lighter, for some reason. Maybe it was because the intensity of the trial had disappeared, Lee didn't know.

Looking around, he spotted a blanket and pillow lying on the couch, neatly folded. Files and folders were haphazardly perched on the table nearby, and a jacket lay flung over the back of a chair. It was the President's jacket, he realised.

As if sensing his son's questioning gaze, Adama quickly stated;

"The President usually needs to rest after her Diloxin treatments, so I allow her to rest here."

Lee nodded politely, not wanting to point out the fact that they had multiple guest quarters that were currently uninhabited and available. He slowly walked over to the couch and made himself comfortable, waiting for his father to speak again.

"What are you going to do now?" Adama asked, moving over to the far side of his quarters to pour them both a drink.

"Well, I guess I'll look out for a job that I'm suited at. Maybe a lawyer, maybe some sort of job in the government. I don't know."

"Hmm," Adama nodded in agreement, handing Lee a glass of Ambrosia, "you know, you're always welcome back here. We need all the viper pilots we can get."

Lee heard his words, but focused on the hidden meaning behind them. Adama was forgiving him for the trial and was also offering him an apology, offering him his wings back. Lee didn't want his father to misunderstand his appreciation, and so tried to find the best words to say.

"Thankyou for the offer sir," Lee started slowly, going through the words in his head, "but I think that my future lies outside the cockpit of a Viper."

Adama seemed to have understood him perfectly, smiling slightly. He held up his glass to Lee, who responded by holding up his own and clinking them together in a toast.

"To a new job and chance in life." Adama murmured, taking a long sip of his drink.

"To a new beginning." Lee reiterated, knocking his own drink back in one gulp. He rolled the glass around in his hands, unsure of what to say next.

"Dad, about the trial-"

"Save it, son." Adama interrupted, his eyes fixed steadily on his glass. He then looked up and their eyes met, unspoken agreements passing between them.

A knock at the hatch caused them to suddenly lose eye contact, and Adama moved towards the entrance into his quarters. Lee sat back on the couch, feeling a lot better now that he and his father were on speaking terms once again.

"Mr Adama." The tone of the voice was warm and welcoming and, looking up to see who it was, Lee was surprised.

President Roslin stood, supported by Adama, staring at the man sitting on the couch before her. Lee jumped up quickly, offering her his seat. She smiled appreciatively at him and with Adama's help, she sat down on where Lee had vacated. As Lee watched her, he couldn't help but wince at the pain she must be going through. Every movement brought a grimace to her lips, and she looked very unstable. Glancing at his father, Lee found him looking at the President oddly. His gaze was intense and he hardly blinked as he looked at the woman before him. Lee winced yet again as he wondered what the Admiral must be going through, seeing his friend and confidant slowly fade away before his eyes.

"I should go," Lee said, breaking the silence. He felt uncomfortable, as if intruding on a private moment.

"Wait," Roslin said, her voice sounding uncharacteristically weak, "Don't leave on my behalf. I usually feel quite bad after my treatments, and I don't want you to feel uncomfortable because of it."

The glitter in her weary eyes told Lee that his expressions and thoughts did not go unnoticed by her.

"Well I really should be heading off anyway," Lee lied, knowing that the only place he had to go was back to his own quarters, which were empty now that Dee had left him, "I need to get changed. I wear the same clothes for so many days and people are going to start to notice."

His attempt at humour was lost on the people before him. Laura sighed and closed her eyes, fidgeting slightly to get more comfortable. Adama gripped his glass tightly in his hand, but his expression was softer as he regarded both his son and Laura.

"May I enquire as to where you are planning on going?" Laura asked, her expression serious. Lee felt himself crumble under her gaze.

"Well, actually, erm . . . I have nowhere to go right now. I'm sure many job opportunities will be available though and . . ." His voice slowed to silence as he realised that he did in fact have no planned future ahead of him. Laura smiled and nodded knowingly, whispering a grateful "thankyou" to Adama as he placed a glass of water in her unsteady hand. She took an appreciative sip, and when she spoke again, her voice was slightly stronger;

"There's always ample job opportunity aboard the Galactica, especially now that you have proven yourself quite the law man." The words stung, but Lee knew that she was not trying to offend him, merely state the facts.

"Thankyou Madam President," Lee said gratefully, "but I'm sure the shuttle run everyday would be a nuisance."

"Well," Laura replied, her eyes glittering once again with amusement. Lee was astounded that she could still find some humour at a time like this, "there just happens to be a lovely couch on Colonial One available. My quarters to be exact."

Lee looked from her to Adama, confused. Adama was smiling slightly, as he looked at his son.

"I'm sorry Madam President, but I don't think I quite understand." Lee blurted out honestly.

"Well you see, a lot of my meetings are aboard the Galactica," she explained slowly, still grimacing every so often at the dull ache spreading through her body, "That and the treatments have left me a little bit weaker than I would like to admit. So, the Admiral," she nodded towards Adama, "has kindly offered me guest quarters aboard his ship."

Lee turned to Adama, who seemed to have taken a great interest in the drink in his hands. Lee understood immediately what she was trying to say, and he saved her the trouble and pain.

"You are offering me your old quarters on Colonial One?"

"Yes," Laura nodded wearily, "and a job in my cabinet, if you would like one. Rumour has it," she smiled, reminiscing, "that I know very little about Military Protocol. I'd like to be able to change that, with your help of course."

"Madam President, I would be honoured." Lee smiled and moved over to shake the Presidents hand. However, Adama gripped his sons arm and shook his head imperceptibly. Lee looked over and realised that Laura's eyes were battling to stay open. He understood immediately and patted his father on the back.

"I should be off. Got to pack for my new job."

Lee left the quarters, a wide smile on his face. He had a new job and new quarters. Life was looking up for him.

Adama slowly shut the hatch as Lee walked out. It took him by surprise what Laura had said, and everything that she had offered him. He was unsure what her reaction would be to his son after what had happened at the trial, but Laura seemed to have forgiven him quickly.

"Bill?" Her voice was laced with exhaustion, and he was right at her side. Slowly covering her with a blanket, he wondered how the treatment went. Due to an incident in CIC, he could not be there.

"You should be resting Laura."

"How did Sam's talk go with Kara?"

The guard had called him just moments after the conversation between them had ended, and told him exactly what had transpired. However, due to their hectic schedules and treatments, Bill and Laura had not had a chance to discuss it. It was a long story, so Bill decided to shorten it, knowing that Laura could not handle the whole conversation right now.

"Nothing of interest. He said he'd still love her if she was a Cylon. She said if she was a Cylon she'd kill herself. She then told him it was over between them." A failed marriage was never easy for someone, Bill had experience enough to know that, and it hurt him that Kara, his surrogate daughter, had to experience that herself at such a young age.

"I'm sorry Bill," Laura whispered, her eyes closed. She gently grabbed his forearm, and left her hand lightly touching it, "how did he take it?"

"Pretty well, apparently, although he was pleading to her to take him back," Bill conceded, watching her face intently, "He's naïve. A man usually is when he's really desperate for someone or something."

Laura's eyes opened and she fixed him with a long stare, piercing right through his façade to his inner turmoil. Her voice was barely above a whisper;

"Are you naïve sometimes?"

Her question, that was seemingly innocent, was layered with meaning. The different paths that could be taken from just this one question caused Bill to panic slightly. He decided to play it safe for now. Although not sufficient, there was still a long amount of time in which he could start something. Now was not the moment.

"Sometimes," He murmured honestly, pulling a strand of hair from Laura's face and tucking it behind her ear, "but then I remind myself that, for now, I can't afford to be."

Laura mulled over his answer, her thoughts racing. Finally, she nodded her head, seemingly satisfied, and closed her eyes. Her hand never left his arm, but Bill did not mind, as he was not going anywhere.

**A/N**

**I'll get started on the next chapter tonight, and it should hopefully be up either tonight or tomorrow. Sit tight for now. **


	9. Eavesdropping and Appointments

**Authors Note**

**Chapter 9!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters what-so-ever, so please don't sue. If you're still keen on suing me, then do it over the story that you think is the best. Leave me a little bit of ego as I go to prison.**

**Tigh's Quarters**

**Battlestar Galactica**

Tigh paced the room, much the same way he did when all four had turned up for the first rendezvous. His nerves were only second to his increasing frustration, as they waited for the last member to arrive. They were meant to be precise, without fail, or someone would be bound to notice their collective absences. _And yet, _he thought to himself, _the threat of exposure is second to putting a kid to sleep. _

Just as that thought ran rapidly through his head, amusing him, Tyrol pushed open the hatch and entered the room quickly. Shutting the hatch behind him, he stopped for a moment to catch his breath, before seating himself in a chair.

"Where the frak have you been Chief?" Tigh barked, standing in his most menacing position, a scowl on his face.

Tyrol took a deep breath, and winced, rubbing his side where a stitch had appeared, "Sorry, sir. Nicky wouldn't go to sleep unless I read him a story. Then I had to make sure Cally was also asleep before I left. I ran here as fast as I could."

"No-one followed you?" The voice came from the couch where, once again, Tory sat, this time slumped backwards as if in boredom.

"No, not to my recollection." Tyrol stated honestly, sitting further forward in his chair as the pain in his side started to disappear.

"Good," Tigh murmured, before moving to stand in front of the trio that were now gathered in his quarters, "Anders!"

"Sir?" Anders seemed sullen, brooding over his conversation with Kara that was imprinted so freshly in his mind.

"Your conversation with Kara. How did it go?" Tory interrupted, knowing that the conversation would go much more efficiently without Tigh hurrying and barking orders at them.

"I don't think she's a Cylon," Anders assured, looking around at them all, "but if she is, then she doesn't know it either. She said if she was a Cylon she'd shoot herself." He decided not to impart the rest of the conversation onto them, thinking it was best that he kept it to himself.

"You better be right, or else we're all gonna be in big trouble." Tigh said, his good eye narrowed at Anders.

"So … what do we do now?" Tyrol asked the room. He was greeted with hostile glares and silence. Deciding that now wasn't the best time to bring it all up, he bowed his head and moved away, leaning against the nearby wall.

"We're cylons," Anders said suddenly, as if it was a revelation that had occurred just that minute. He glanced at the others, before bringing his hands up to his face and rubbing his eyes. His muffled voice could only just be heard, "Cylons … all this time … I've been killing the enemy only to realise that I _am _the enemy!"

"Now hang on a frakking minute," Tigh stood up, glaring at Anders. His voice was quiet but laced with menace, and it slowly rose in volume as he carried on his sentence, "I came into this room as Saul Tigh, and that is how I'm frakkin' leave it!" The last couple of words were shouted, echoing off of the walls of the quarters.

"How can you say that!?" Anders roared, also getting up. He drew close to the colonel, stopping only a meter away, "How can you go about like you did before!? Each day we have lived has been a lie! Each day we continue to live with the rest of the fleet, we are lying! To them, and ourselves!" His voice faltered slightly, before he added, "I'm not sure I can continue this charade in good conscience."

His last statement brought outrage as both Tory and Tyrol jumped into the fight.

"What are you going to do Anders!? Go to the Admiral, tell him you're a Cylon and expect special treatment!? Look how Starbuck is being treated and she isn't even the frakkin' enemy!" Tyrol shouted, pulling at Ander's arm and making him face him. Anders kept eye contact, his head tilted up in defiance;

"I don't want special treatment. I just don't want to continue to lie. I want to be on a side, not in the middle of it!"

"Don't talk like that Sam," Tory said, placing her hand gently on his shoulder, "you're not in the middle. You're on a side. You're on this side. The human side."

"Why?" Anders asked, defeated, "why are we on their side? We're cylons! We're the enemy! And yet we sit here, twiddling our thumbs and playing dumb, hoping to the Gods that no-one knows a thing. I don't want that. I want to be accepted for what I am, not who I pretend to be."

With that, he pulled away and exited the quarters, leaving a stunned silence in his wake. As he slammed the hatch shut behind him and moved off down the corridor, Anders caught a glimpse out of the corner of his eye. Turning around quickly, he spotted Cally Tyrol running off down the corridor.

**Galactica Brig**

**Battlestar Galactica**

Kara Thrace was lying on her bed, whispering to herself. The coordinates she had pulsing through her mind were slowly losing their vibrancy, and she felt a great struggle as her mind tried to cling hopelessly onto them.

"No, no," she scolded herself, "think, Thrace." Reciting what she could remember, she was now fully aware that she was missing at least half of the coordinates she once had. She figured they must be drifting off course at a rapid speed. Pondering this thought bitterly, Kara did not notice that a guard had moved up to her cell, until she heard, once again, the clicking of a gun.

"That could be my new theme tune," She told the guard, grinning wryly, "any chance you could unlock this door and let me out of here?"

The guard did not respond to her sarcastic comment. Instead, he pulled out a set of keys and began to unlock the door. Kara sat up in confusion.

"If all it took was to ask politely in the first place, I could've saved some time." She murmured to herself, still smiling. Finally, she was going to be released. Adama must have come to his senses. She knew that he held a lot of store in what his precious Colonel Tigh told him, but Kara really thought it was not like him at all to have her just locked up like that, without any proof.

"You are wanted in Life Station." The guard announced, his gun trained on the woman before him. He had been warned to take special precautions as she may be a cylon. Already having heard of her reputation, he was extremely wary when she walked up so casually to the door.

"Well, let's not keep them any longer. Shall we?" She offered him her wrists mockingly, her eyes widening in surprise when he actually took her up on her offer and cuffed her.

"So much for hospitality." She rolled her eyes, and was led away from the brig.

**Life Station**

**Battlestar Galactica**

"Stop fidgeting, young lady." Cottle growled at Roslin, attempting to pull the needle once again out of her arm. She tried to stay still, her arm held out in front of her, giving the Doctor sufficient time to take off the apparatus.

After a few moments, her arm started to drop slightly, and Cottle groaned in frustration. With one last tug of the needle, he moved away from Roslin and packed up the equipment.

"The treatments are going well," He assured her, as she flopped back onto the hospital bed, exhausted. Pulling at the curtain that cut them off from the rest of the Sick Bay, Cottle once again looked back at her;

"Your prognosis looks good. Just get plenty of rest and fluids between treatments. It may not seem like much, but it does a hell of a lot of good." With that, he disappeared from view and left Roslin lightly resting.

"How is she Doc?" Adama asked, entering Life Station. He had a book firmly under one of his arms and his pace told Cottle that he had got here as soon as he could.

"She's a fighter," Cottle replied, lighting up a cigarette, "she's resting at the moment. What's that?" he nodded towards the book that Adama clutched.

"She asked that I bring her a book to keep her occupied."

"I see. Well, be sure to read to her. Your dulcet tones will be sufficient enough to put her to sleep."

Usually, Adama would've made an example of whoever had the pure cheek to insult him, but he knew that Cottle would just laugh at his attempts, brushing them off. He had respect for the Doctor in front of him, and if being insulted kept the man amused, then he was prepared to be the laughing stock of Life Station.

"Your prisoner is on her way up Admiral. Should I make her wait?" Cottle asked.

"No," Adama shook his head, "just give me a few minutes. The President will want to attend the meeting as well. Don't worry," He added, seeing Cottle's furious glare and open mouth, "She'll be back in her bed when it's over."

"See to it that she is," He warned the Admiral, as he started to walk away, "Meet in five minutes!"

Adama nodded and pulled back the curtain, revealing a very peaceful Roslin, eyes closed and a smile playing on her lips. Moving to sit down beside her, he did not wake the woman. Instead, he was content to just watch her.

Roslin slowly opened her eyes and looked at the man seated beside her.

"How was treatment?" Adama asked, placing the book at his feet.

"Exhausting," Roslin replied, grimacing, "When does Kara get here?"

"In a few minutes. Are you feeling up for moving?"

Laura laughed, her eyes twinkling with humour, "I'm not _that _ill, not yet anyway. Now let's go talk to our prisoner, shall we?"

Adama nodded and held out his hand for support, which Roslin gratefully took.

**A/N**

**I was going to include the actual Life Station meeting between Kara, Cottle, Roslin and Adama but I decided to stick to a rough word limit for each chapter, so it'll have to wait until next chapter. **


	10. Hearing Voices

**Authors Note**

**Woo double digits!! Chapter 10!! Enjoy. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters what-so-ever, so please don't sue. If you're still keen on suing me, then do it over the story that you think is the best. Leave me a little bit of ego as I go to prison.**

**Life Station**

**Battlestar Galactica**

"You wanted to see me." Kara said in a bored tone, looking around her surroundings. She hadn't been in Life Station for such a long time; she almost missed the weary face and sardonic tone of Doctor Cottle. He was scrutinising her closely, a cigarette hanging loosely between two fingers.

"Your blood samples have been analysed," He stated, looking directly at her. However, he was also talking to the other people surrounding him. Adama stood stoically, his hands clasped tightly together in front of him. Roslin, on the other hand, was sitting in a chair, her face in her hands. It looked to Kara as if she was trying hard not to throw up.

"Well, don't keep me in suspense Doc." Kara replied, smiling. She knew that she wasn't a Cylon, so she could afford to be slightly arrogant. The tension in the room made her want to laugh. It was actually as if her being a Cylon was a possibility. Doctor Cottle took one last look at her, before flipping over the folder in front of him. His eyes narrowed slightly as he read what was on paper. Finally, after what seemed like long tense minutes, he lifted his head up and snapped the folder shut.

"Looking at these blood samples, her blood contains traces of antigens. This means that Kara Thrace," He announced, fixating his gaze on the subject in question, "Is human."

A collective sigh of relief was echoed throughout the life station. Adama unlinked his hand and smiled, moving towards the young hotshot pilot. The guards around her moved forwards and took the handcuffs off of Kara. She rubbed her wrists bitterly.

"What d'ya hear Starbuck?" He asked, his eyes wide with relief and joy. It was true. His Starbuck was back, and he felt great regret at having her locked up, not believing her. Adama decided that he was going to make it up to her, starting by reinstating her as the new CAG.

"Nothing but betrayal, sir." Kara saluted smartly and exited the Life Station, leaving Adama standing stunned at her reply.

**Corridor**

**Battlestar Galactica**

Lee moved through the battlestar, hoisting his duffel bag over his right shoulder. All of his possessions were stored in that bag, and that thought embarrassed him greatly. Dee had cleaned out their quarters while he was at the trial awaiting the verdict. She had left him with only his personal items, which consisted of a couple of suits, a photograph, a few books and a bottle of alcohol. Thinking back, he realised that his quarters weren't really his at all. He spent more time down at Joes bar than with his own wife in their home. That might have contributed to why she left, he realised, his mouth tightening into a grim line.

He was shaken out of his thoughts when he heard muttering from the corridor to his left. Turning the corner, Lee realised that he was surrounded by photographs and pictures. He was in the memorial corridor, and he wasn't alone. Sitting down against the wall, her head in her hands, was Kara Thrace.

"Kara?" asked Lee cautiously, setting his duffel bag down on the floor. Kara's head shot up, her hand imperceptibly wiping underneath her eyes. Her attempt at covering up the fact that she was crying did not work. Lee immediately became concerned and moved towards her. It wasn't everyday that Starbuck cried.

"Hey Lee," She muttered, her voice thick with emotion. Trying her best to wipe away the emotions she was showing, Kara shuffle slightly and allowed Lee to sit down next to her. For a long moment, they sat contentedly in silence, staring at the pictures around them. Kara noticed that there was a photograph of her up there, next to Kat. It was just where she wanted it placed and smiled slightly in the knowledge that Lee had upheld their promise.

"So … I'm not a Cylon."

It broke the silence, and Lee turned his head towards her, his expression showing surprise at the sudden statement. She misread his expression as one of surprise at her being human, and snapped;

"Yeah Lee, big surprise. I'm human. Everyone else was shocked too."

Lee sighed inwardly. This was not going well.

"I didn't for a second think you were a Cylon, Kara-" He started but was interrupted by her sudden snort of contempt. Swallowing his angry retort, he pushed on, "-but you've got to understand their view. Your ship exploded. You were gone for months. To come back as the same unruly, cocky, loveable pilot as you were before and claim to have found earth, I was surprised that you weren't locked away for good, 'cause that's frakkin' insane."

He was met by a hostile silence, a frown growing on Kara's lips. Suddenly, she spoke;

"Loveable?" She grinned widely at his slip-up. Lee just smiled, turning his head away and resting it against the wall behind.

"I don't know what you're talking about." He replied, remembering a conversation way back before Kobol when he had told her inadvertently that he loved her. She had mocked it in the same way as she was doing now.

"C'mon Lee, remember what we agreed? You can't take it back. No take backs. You called me 'loveable'-"

"-I also called you unruly and cocky." Lee reminded her, smiling lightly at her sudden lighter mood.

"Yes but I get called that _everyday. _I haven't been called loveable in a while." Her voice trailed away at the end of the sentence, as she thoughtfully gazed around. Lee patted her knee awkwardly and finally asked;

"So … how did they take the news? Of you not being a Cylon."

Kara sighed, looking down at the floor of the corridor.

"They were relieved mainly. The President looked quite sick actually, but that was also before I got there, so nothing about her changed at the news. Almost like she was expecting me to be cleared anyway. I don't know. The Old Man was relieved and happy."

"I bet," Lee replied, smiling, "He was devastated when you had gone. He'd basically lost his daughter."

"Yeah, well, I was pretty rude to him in Life Station. He actually considered me being a Cylon, Lee. _Me. _It's going to take a while before he earns my trust back again."

"I'm sure he will in good time Kara."

"Did you miss me?"

"What?"

"I asked, did _you_ miss me?"

"It wasn't the same without Starbuck. Everyone was distraught at the thought of losing you. It played havoc on our crew members."

"You didn't answer my question Lee." Her voice was soft and filled with questioning. Gazing expectantly into his face, Kara felt a strong urge to just take his face in his hands and-

Her thought was interrupted as Lee brought his face closer to hers. He slowly cupped her cheek and placed a chaste kiss on her lips. Looking deeply into her eyes, he saw affection, confusion and hurt.

"Don't you ever think for a second," His voice was hoarse, "that I didn't miss you. Every morning I woke up after you'd gone, a piece of my heart was ripped off. I kept beating myself up, thinking that maybe I could've done something to save you. Maybe if I'd listened more. Maybe if I'd saw the enemy first. Maybe if it was me who went into that frakking thing and died and not you. I wasn't living Kara. I knew it, dad knew it. Christ even the president knew it. You wouldn't believe the amount of times I was called to the Colonial One for meetings with Roslin."

Kara smiled at the thought, but let him continue;

"Dee knew it. She broke up with me. She blamed it on the trial, but I knew really. She felt threatened. And why wouldn't she? I mean, you were gone for so long, but I refused to give up hope. I missed you Kara, more than I can possibly say."

Kara sat quietly after his speech, looking into his eyes. It hurt her, that every word he spoke was the truth. She could hear it in his tone and see it in his eyes. It hurt because she felt unworthy of his attention. It was a tense moment, and Kara was uncomfortable with it.

"Just a simple yes or no would've done Lee." She replied, before snorting with laughter. Lee was shocked for a minute, but he knew that Kara would not intentionally hurt him like that, and guessed that she was feeling uncomfortable. He let it pass, laughing with her.

"Well, you know me now. Government Man. I guess I have to prepare for long speeches."

This caused Kara to laugh even more. She desperately clutched at her sides as she tried to remain solemn, but failed miserably, causing her to guffaw in amusement. They sat there for ages, just laughing in companionship, both warm and secure in eachothers solace.

"You are in turmoil Kara Thrace."

A voice whispered in her ear. She quickly turned her head, expecting Lee to be sitting, grinning at her, but instead she saw him still laughing and looking at the photos around him. His lips weren't moving. As she regarded him, the voice was still speaking;

"You want to love him, and let him love you, but you can't. Something is not letting you, building a wall around your heart."

Kara started to panic. How did this voice know so much about her?

"Who are you?" Kara whispered nervously, searching around the corridor. Lee beside her looked over, regarding her with curiosity.

"Who're you talking to?" He asked uncertainly, also looking around the corridor. He was surprised when Kara suddenly stood up and walked slowly away. It was as if she was looking for someone. Finding no-one in her vicinity, she started to get irritated. _If this is some frakkin' practical joke then so help me I will-_

"You can't be alone forever Kara. Don't block them out."

The voice spoke again, this time it sounded closer, more imminent.

"Who are you!?" Kara screamed, her hands coming up to her ears. If she blocked out sound then maybe the voice would go too. She was _not _hearing things. This had to be some kind of trick. A hand gripped her shoulder and she spun around, coming face to face with ...

"The question _is _'who are _you_'?" Leoben whispered, smiling knowingly. His image, as soon as it appeared, started to slowly fade away. Where Leoben was standing before, now stood Lee. He had concern and worry etched on his face as his hands rested on her shoulders. His lips were moving, but Kara could only hear Leoben's last statement. Shaking herself out of her reverie, she tuned in to what Lee was saying.

"Huh?" She asked, now focusing on him.

"I asked are you okay?" Lee repeated, now definitely worried. It looked like she had zoned out there for a second, screaming "who are you?!" at a corridor. The way she reacted when he touched her shoulder and the look of surprise on her face made Lee wonder if it was really him she saw the first time.

"I'm fine Lee," She shrugged off his concern, taking one last sweeping glance around the corridor, "I'm fine."

**A/N**

**next chapter up either today or tomorrow sometime, hopefully. **


	11. One Way Or Another

**Authors Note**

**Chapter 11 for you all. I hope you're enjoying reading this as much as I'm enjoying writing it, and believe me, I'm enjoying writing this!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters what-so-ever, so please don't sue. If you're still keen on suing me, then do it over the story that you think is the best. Leave me a little bit of ego as I go to prison.**

**Hangar Deck**

**Battlestar Galactica**

"Galen?"

The sudden soft voice of Cally caused Tyrol to jump in surprise. Turning around, he saw his wife slowly coming towards him, her overalls covered in oil and her face smudged with grease. He smiled at the sight of her, wanting nothing more to than hug her and to hold her right in the centre of the Hangar Deck. He shook his head, knowing that while he was on duty, nothing even remotely affectionate could occur. Although things remained normal when they were both on duty, Cally still insisted on calling him Galen, instead of Chief. He didn't mind in the least, however, as it let him remember the moments in between their shifts, where they were a regular couple.

"What's up Cally?" he asked, regarding the petite woman in front of him. She had her arms crossed and she was biting her lip nervously. _Why on earth is she looking so worried? _He wondered, waiting for her to speak.

"I was wondering if-" Her voice faltered slightly, and she trained her eyes on the floor in front, not daring to look into his eyes, "I was wondering if I could talk to you?"

"Right now?" Tyrol replied, looking around him. He was working a longer shift than normal as some nugget had managed to somehow damage five different vipers. The deck gang around him were up to their throats in work, and he couldn't spare any time to have a conversation that could wait for later, "I'm kinda busy at the moment. Figurski needs help with a fuel line leakage, and I've got to tweak the engine on Hotdogs viper. We're a few deck hands down and I really can't spare any time right now."

At her stricken look, he quickly added, "I'll speak to you as soon as the shift is over, ok?"

Cally brought her eyes up to meet his and he was shocked to find fear, uncertainty and hurt staring back at him. Had he done something wrong? He thought of all the important dates, and drew blanks. It wasn't any sort of anniversary or birthday. Before he could ask her what was wrong, she steadily replied, "Okay Chief" and walked off towards the end of the Hangar Deck. Something was wrong with her, and Tyrol made a mental note to ask her later what was on her mind.

As Tyrol turned back towards the viper behind him, slipping under it with a wrench, Cally quickly darted towards a secluded spot, just behind a hatch. She closed her eyes as tears stung at the corners, and wished the pain away.

He acted as if nothing was different. As if he wasn't _one of them. _The thought made her heart ache. Her husband was a Cylon. If that wasn't a kick in the teeth, he wasn't even planning on telling his own wife. Cally now regretted overhearing the heated conversation between Anders, Tigh, Tory and Tyrol. She wished that life could go back to how it was. Why did it have to get so complicated? The Gods obviously were mad at her, and Cally couldn't fathom a reason why. She didn't know what to do anymore. She couldn't turn him in because she loved him too much. Yet she knew that she couldn't carry on living a lie, pretending that nothing was wrong. The right decision was evading her grasp, and with desperation she looked up at the ceiling above her.

Swiping at the tears now tracking down her cheek, Cally drew a deep breath before shakily whispering, "Lords of Kobol, hear my prayer …"

**Life Station**

**Battlestar Galactica**

"Bill?"

"Hmm?"

"Stop brooding."

Adama smiled slightly at Roslin's comment, but after a few seconds, it was replaced with a heavy frown. Starbuck's word echoed in his ears. Betrayal? Was that what he did to her? Betrayed her? Surely not. He had felt guilty, admittedly. He had locked up his own surrogate daughter in the brig, accusing her of being one of the enemies and refusing all contact with her. However, he had let the weight of the decision slowly leave his shoulders, as he constantly told himself that's it was for the wellbeing and safety of the fleet. He couldn't let a suspect Cylon roam the corridors of Galactica. The last time that had happened, he had been shot. He was going to gain her trust back, he decided resolutely, one way or another.

Realising suddenly that he had been silent for way too long, so lost he was in his thoughts, Adama looked up at Roslin. Her eyes were closed, but a small smile appeared on her lips as she felt his gaze on her.

"I know what you're thinking." She stated wryly. Her eyes opened and her gaze focused in on his blue eyes.

"No you don't." He countered softly, moving closer to her. He placed his hand on her forearm in comfort and support.

"I know," she repeated slowly. Her eyes were alight with humour, "you're regretting that you didn't get me that nice, new Cylon body."

Adama let out a bark of laughter, running his hand back and forth along her arm.

"Like I said before, Laura," he spoke softly, "I can't see you as a blonde."

Roslin just smiled widely, snorted in amusement and then proceeded to once again close her eyes.

"You did the right thing Bill," she whispered, sensing his earlier turmoil. His shoulders slumped slightly at confirmation that it was the right thing to do, "she'll see it eventually."

"And if she doesn't?" Adama asked cautiously, not sure if he wanted to hear her answer.

"Then you have no invite to Earth." She started to laugh lightly, her other hand coming up to rest on top of his. He laughed with her, glad to see something light hearted made out of his irrational fears.

"That'd be a real shame." He uttered, catching his breath. Picking up the book he had placed on the floor earlier, he reluctantly released his hand from Roslin's warm grip.

"I remember," He started, flicking through the pages, "you saying that you had not managed to finish the book 'Dark Day'. Let's change that, shall we?"

"Yes," Roslin replied gently, feeling comforted by his care, his presence and his soothing voice, "let's."

**Roslin's Quarters**

**Colonial One**

Lee took a good look around the ship after the raptor had dropped him off. It seemed very small, but then Lee was comparing it to the Galactica itself. There wasn't much competition between a Luxury Cruiser and a Battlestar. Sighing, he clutched his box to his chest tighter and moved through the curtains in front of him.

There were very few people onboard, he realised as he made his way down a small aisle. Every so often, he'd come across a man in a suit reclining in a chair or a woman dressed equally as smart, reading some book.

The atmosphere around him was a lot more relaxed than on Galactica. It was as if the Cylons didn't exist and this was all just some nuisance, a delay onboard so they have to wait a little longer before they reach Caprica.

Lee manoeuvred around people as they made their way down the narrow aisle. Twice he stepped on someone's foot, much to their annoyance. Apologising profusely, he finally reached the front end of the ship.

Tory was standing there with her arms crossed, impatiently tapping her foot. The look of exasperation mirrored his own precisely.

"You're late." She stated.

Lee rolled his eyes. _State the obvious, _he thought sullenly.

"Sorry," He said through gritted teeth, "the raptor set off late."

Tory replied with a sigh, before pulling at the curtain behind her. She moved aside and indicated to him to step through. After he did, she let the curtain swing back behind them.

"This is cosy and all," Lee said, his box still in his arms, "but where are the Presidents old quarters?"

"Well I wouldn't call them quarters," Tory snorted derisively, "but you're looking at them."

Lee looked around in disdain. It was a small room, with a curtain separating him from the rest of the ship. A door on the other side of the area showed a small bathroom. A desk, and three chairs pushed together furnished the bare area, and Lee sighed inwardly. This was not as pleasant as he expected it to be. Seeing as she was the president, she had no luxuries. _Maybe she refused them, _Lee wondered, looking around, _she seems the type that would refuse and live as the rest of the fleet do. _But some of the fleet didn't live like this. It made Lee appreciate being a crew member on the Galactica. He at least got his own quarters.

"It's my understanding that you'll be taking her quarters now?"

"Yeah, the President is currently living on the Galactica, so she is closer to Life Station. The Admiral is taking very good care of her." He was quick to re-assure the disapproving Aide.

"I'm not sure how the press will react, but that wall will be climbed when we get to it. What is your current position in regards to the President?"

"Her Military Advisor." Lee stated, placing his box down precariously on the desk. He felt a stranger on the ship, as if he was just keeping the office warm until the President comes back. _Which she will, _he assured himself.

"Right. This is how it works," Tory said, her arms once again folded in a bored fashion, "The President now has most of her meetings on the Galactica, so you may have to travel there sometimes. Also, you'll need to set up meetings with other representatives in the Quorum in regards to your career change, and also when the vice president requires to see the President and she is incapacitated," Lee winced at the choice of words, "you must see to him. Got all of that?"

"Wait, can you repeat-?"

But Tory had already left, the curtain slowly swishing behind her. Lee took one last glance around the room, before sinking into a chair and sighing. He ran his hands through his hair, muttering;

"Frak, what have I got myself into?"

**A/N**

**Sorry for the delay, I have been surprisingly busy. Next chapter will hopefully be up either today or tomorrow. PLUS I get to hopefully watch the first two episodes of BSG season 4 this weekend so yay!**


	12. Suspicious Activities

**Authors Note**

**Chapter 12 is now up. Enjoy! I apologise for the delay, I really do!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters what-so-ever, so please don't sue. If you're still keen on suing me, then do it over the story that you think is the best. Leave me a little bit of ego as I go to prison.**

**Meeting Room**

**Battlestar Galactica**

"Have you learnt anything of use Felix?" Baltar pulled a cigarette out of his pocket. It was a gift from one of his followers, one of the last in existence. Now was the most fitting time to have it.

"I really feel uncomfortable with all these people in the room." Gaeta replied submissively, sitting tense in a chair. Baltar rolled his eyes at the response and waved a hand, indicating for the followers surrounding them to leave the room. They did so dutifully, until only Gaius and Felix were left.

"Now, let's try again shall we?" Gaius snapped impatiently.

"Now, now Gaius," Caprica Six purred in his ear, "play nicely with the humans."

"How can I?" He stated in disbelief, "I'm surrounded by bloody morons!"

It was Gaeta's turn to roll his eyes. That Baltar was crazy, he decided, seeing him have an argument with himself. Shifting slightly in the chair, he decided that now would be an acceptable time to interrupt Baltar's mindless tirade.

"Do you want to know anything or not?"

Baltar fell silent, his wild eyes focusing on Gaeta. He leaned forward eagerly, awaiting Felix to speak again.

"I've done my usual job, and nothing extremely suspicious had jumped out of me," Gaeta started, having gained the other mans attention, "President Roslin is now staying in the Admiral's Quarters-"

Gaius waved his hand dismissively, "I do not want to know about such trivial little things. Tell me something that is worth the trip over here."

"Well," Gaeta replied evenly, angered by the interruption, "Colonel Tigh, Aide Tory Foster, Chief Tyrol and Samuel Anders have been meeting a lot recently. I don't know why though."

The last statement was met with silence. Baltar was thinking quickly, his eyes darting around the room.

"What does this mean?" He murmured to himself, looking around for Caprica Six. She did not disappoint, hanging her arms on his shoulders, and pressing her lips against his ear.

"What's going on in that misunderstood little mind of yours, Gaius?" She asked, smiling against his face.

"Chief Tyrol has a child."

Caprica pulled away, her expression serious and a frown playing on her face.

"That can't be. That means-"

"If he's a cylon, then his son is a hybrid."

"What was that?" Gaeta interrupted his mutterings once again. He was intrigued at the conversation, but the quietness of Baltar's tone made it difficult for him to hear what he was saying. Gaius snapped out of his conversation and turned towards Gaeta, as if only just realising that he was still in the room.

"Oh erm," He stuttered, trying to rapidly think up something, "I was wondering if Tyrol was maybe secretly meeting with the others to stage a coup against the Admiral."

Gaeta moved back, looking doubtful.

"I don't think so," he said, "Colonel Tigh would never do that."

"Yes, well," Baltar said quickly, trying to change the subject, "thankyou for the information. That will be sufficient."

"That's it?" Gaeta asked in disbelief. He had been dragged to the meeting room and beaten over the head, told to look for anything suspicious, and all he got at the end of it was a thankyou.

"What else did you want?" Baltar asked him, "a standing ovation? A medal?"

"A bit of frakkin' recognition would be nice and-"

"Recognition!? Oh how silly of me!" Baltar shouted, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "I forgot to give you recognition. Tell me, what should I commend!? The type of pen you stuck in my neck!?"

Gaeta fell silent, his eyes filled with loathing. Suddenly, he leapt up and stormed towards the hatch, slamming it behind him.

"Well that could've gone better." Caprica Six stated, seated in the chair recently vacated by Gaeta.

"There could be two hybrids." Baltar whispered, his hand running across his face, and resting lightly over his mouth.

"God works in mysterious ways," Caprica Six replied soothingly, leaning back, "now you have two children to protect Gaius. They are the shape of things to come."

Gaius closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them, she was gone.

**Press Conference**

**Colonial One**

"Madam President, is it true that-"

"Madam President, I was wondering if-"

"Madame President! Can you tell us what-"

"Madame President!"

"Please!" Roslin called out, her hand spread wide in the air, calmly indicating for the people in the room to quiet. Her effort was futile, with the reporters practically clambering over eachother to be within reach of her with their cameras and microphones. The shouting of questions still continued, this time starting to rise in volume and Roslin sighed, leaning against the podium in front of her. Adama had advised her not to hold a conference that soon after her last treatment, but she had ignored his warnings, wanting to give the reporters a chance to have their questions answered. They had been annoying her office and her staff for days, wanting the latest news about her health, the current route to earth, the release of Kara.

_As Tory so rightly said, _she thought wryly, _they are like vultures._

The noise in the room reached maximum volume, and Roslin felt a dull ache slowly spread through her body and into her head. Bringing her hands up to her face, she rubbed her eyes and looked towards Tory for action.

Tory saw the distressed President in front of her, and nodded imperceptibly in recognition. Roslin relied on her often for more extreme measures to quiet the room. She cleared her throat and placed her hands to her mouth, allowing her to project her voice further.

"QUIET!" She yelled. It was as if someone had hit a volume button. Slowly, the noise and chatter died down and was replaced with a silence, broken only by the occasional muttering and the click of a camera.

Roslin smiled in gratitude to her Aide, who respectively stepped back. Roslin straightened herself up, and looked around the room, a fixed smile on her face. She was starting to feel ill, but after so much planning and rumours going around, she felt it best that she persevered, if only for a few minutes. It was her presidential duty after all, and no amount of sickness was going to stop her from doing that.

"There are many rumours going around," she started, her voice surprisingly strong and steady, "and I have arranged this in order to give you, the press, a chance to know what's really going on. This office does not tolerate rumours."

The Press were listening intently, pushing their microphones forward eagerly.

"Now," her presidential smile did not reach her eyes, which were showing signs of fatigue, "since there are many matters that need to be answered and we have a very short amount of time, I'll hand straight over to you."

She looked around expectantly at the sea of faces. A pencil falling to the floor could have been heard, it was so silent. They were taken aback at her unusual offering. Usually, there would be the statements, followed by brief questions, then announcements. This time, she handed the reign over to the people in front of her. Realising that now was their chance for answers, the press surged forward in one swift movement, bombarding her with questions that could barely be heard above the noise of the people in the room.

"Madam President! What about-"

"Can you please explain why-"

"Madam President!"

Roslin sighed inwardly, and pointed towards the back of the room.

"Playa!" She called, indicating one particularly ferocious reporter, who was trying to propel herself towards the podium in order to ask her question. The press went quiet again, this time to hear the reporter's question. Playa eagerly stood up and shouted across the room;

"Madam President! Is there any truth to the rumours that you and the Admiral are having secret liaisons?!"

Roslin's smile grew softer at the question. Here she was, willing to offer answers to trivial questions such as the sudden return of Kara Thrace, and all they wanted to know was whether she was secretly in a relationship with the Admiral.

"I assure you," She said, her voice filled with amusement, "that there is strictly a platonic relationship between Admiral Adama and myself. Next question please."

Placated with her answer, some of the reporters sat down. However, the majority were still on their feet, shouting.

"Yes, over there!" Roslin called once again, pointing at a man waving his notepad frantically. He grinned smugly and leaned forwards.

"Will the resignation of Lee Adama and his occupation of a government job cause any conflict between the Government and the Military!?"

"Mr ..?"

"Hannon, Madame President."

"Mr Hannon," The President stated, clutching at the podium. It was starting to become hard to hold herself up. She could feel the energy leaving her, "Mr Adama has accepted the role of Military Advisor, and I feel that his role can only _strengthen _the relationship between the military and the civilian government."

"One more question!" Tory called out, sensing the President was running out of energy. She seemed to be gripping the podium tightly, in an effort to keep going. Roslin smiled at Tory, silently thanking her. The noise in the room increased further as the reporters became frantic, trying to get their questions answered.

"Madam President! Is it true that that you have been visiting the Cylon prisoner onboard the Galactica!?"

A sudden hush resounded through the room as the reporters gazed eagerly to see the President's reaction. Although stoic in appearance, Roslin's stomach lurched in surprise. How did they know? She admonished herself, for not taking extra caution and check if she was being followed.

Tory could see Roslin's obvious distress and moved forwards to address her audience;

"Alright!" She called out, her hands ushering them, "The president needs to-"

Her voice was drowned out in a sea of protests from angry reporters, and in amongst the chaos, a voice rang out;

"Tory!"

Tory turned around quickly and saw the President standing at the podium, with the smile still in place. Her eyes however, were wary as she gazed at the reporter who asked the question. Once again, the volume slowly decreased as the Press waited with baited breath.

"I'll answer your question," She said softly, "but first I would like to once again re-iterate the importance of my privacy. I will not tolerate being discretely followed. Mistrust within the fleet will inevitably lead to our own demise, and I will not allow it. I am all for being asked direct questions, but spying on me, will not only get you no answers, but also an indefinite stay in the brig."

The reporters had the decency to look ashamed, and Roslin felt proud that she still had a certain amount of strictness and control, as she did when she was a school teacher.

"Now," She said brusquely, "I have indeed been visiting our Cylon prisoner in the Brig. We are trying to obtain information, such as we did from the last cylon prisoner Sharon Valerii, in hopes of being able to find out more about the Cylon race."

The same reporter who asked the question shouted out;

"Will you release her into the fleet like you did Sharon Valerii-"

"That is all." Roslin called out, and shakily left the podium. Tory held out her arm in support, but the president shrugged it off, walking with dignity through the curtain behind her. The press continued to chatter at the recent revelation.

**A/N**

**Next chapter up soon. Hang in there. **


	13. Going for a Joyride

**Authors Note**

**Here's another chapter for you.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters what-so-ever, so please don't sue. If you're still keen on suing me, then do it over the story that you think is the best. Leave me a little bit of ego as I go to prison.**

**Pilot's Quarters**

**Battlestar Galactica**

_One more jump and it's gone._

_One more jump and we're lost._

_One more jump and earth is gone._

_One more jump and we are royally screwed._

Kara repeated the mantra over and over in her head, her fingers bruising her temples. Her head throbbed, but she put the pain to the back of her mind. Instead she focused on the feeling. The sensation that ran through her as the pain was forgotten. It reminded her that she was alive. The sensation had started happening not long before she returned to the Galactica. Kara remembered sitting in her cockpit, and the feeling in her head was urgent and tangible. Now, as Galactica jumped, not only was it pushing earth away, but it was also pushing the sensation away in her head.

"Frak, one more jump and that's it." Kara gritted her teeth and flopped down onto the rack in defeat. Slowly, she looked up, at the bottom of the top bunk. Stuck there were two pictures. Circles, of red, blue and yellow. The Eye of Jupiter. She focused on them. When Helo had pointed them out to her, she was astounded. Kara had been drawing the circles since she was little as for some reason, the shape and colours attracted her. At first she thought that it was because it was bright and easy to draw. She was just a kid after all. But now it was so much more. Leoben had told her that she had a destiny, and she was just starting to believe that what he said might be true.

The pain in the back of Kara's head returned full force and she threw her head into her pillow, muffling her screams. When would it end? When they were far enough away from earth? _Good, _she thought bitterly, _then I can get a good nights rest. _As soon as that thought passed through her mind, it vanished. As much as the pain annoyed her, it was worth it, if they could reach earth.

A loud clanging resounded through the quarters and Kara hurriedly pulled her small curtain across, blocking her from view. The hatch creaked open and she sat holding her breath, waiting to identify whoever had entered.

"I swear Athena, if you pull that one more time-"

"Hey, I told you. I'm not good at the landings."

It seemed that two people had entered the room. The voice and conversation indicated to Kara who the inhabitants were. Racetrack and Athena. Relaxing slightly, Kara shifted quietly and positioned herself so she sat back against her pillow.

"How much damage did the Raptor take?" Came Racetrack's voice.

"Not as much as The Chief was hollering about. Maybe an overheated engine. The main damage was probably to the communications. It was static when I tried it out afterwards. It should be good to go in a couple of hours. It's still in the Hangar Bay. Chief said he'd need a few drinks before he even started on it."

Racetrack and Athena both laughed, and Kara heard a series of loud bangs. She guessed that they must be putting their helmets away. The voices died down and the hatch slammed shut. Silence reigned in the room, before Kara pushed her head out between the curtain and wall.

The sensation suddenly returned and she drew in a sharp breath. The room around her was spinning and colours swam in front of her eyes. With startling clarity, the colours made a picture. There were stars. Lots of them, blinking back at her. From her viper, Kara could see a large grey planet, covered in pock marks and crevices. A larger planet loomed below her, white mist swirling around it, luring Kara towards it surface. She went eagerly, her viper heading full force down towards it. Suddenly, a bright blinding light shone at her. Kara covered her eyes, wincing as the light grew in intensity. She felt the controls slipping away from her as she was pulled in towards the atmosphere …

Kara screamed, pulling her hands up to her head. Dizziness overtook her suddenly, and she repressed the vomit she knew would make an appearance any second. Wiping her hand across her forehead, Kara felt a layer of sweat soaking through her hair and skin.

"We're going the wrong way," she murmured to herself, "We're going to lose it. Frakkers …"

Suddenly, she laughed. At first it was a tension releasing laugh, but soon it turned hysterical, with Kara clutching at her sides as they ached and threatened to split. They were so close. So close to earth and yet so far. No-one believed her.

"The frakking idiots," She gasped, starting to regain control of her emotions, "let's all find earth by heading in the opposite direction."

Taking deep breaths, Kara moved off of her rack and towards the hatch. She stumbled slightly as she made her way across the room, still holding one of her sides. It seemed the light headedness refused to go away, but Kara didn't care. If she wanted to find earth, she knew that she had to act fast.

**Hangar Bay 2#**

**Battlestar Galactica**

The Chief strode towards the other end of the Hangar Bay, muttering mutinously to himself. It was meant to be his night off. Ever since he had shrugged off Cally's attempt at talking to him, she seemed distant and aloof. He couldn't work out why. There was a certain amount of urgency in her tone, but he had immediately thought that she was asking him to help her with a Raptor. The thought never crossed his mind that it could have been something more serious. Before he could ask her about it, however, she had cut herself off from him, purposely working later shifts. She was trying to avoid him, but Tyrol couldn't for the life of him figure out why. She didn't know about his true nature, he was sure of it. No-one except Anders, Tigh and Tory knew.

As he walked slowly past the broken birds, he wondered what she had wanted to talk to him about.

"Right, time to fix that raptor." He muttered, moving in between two smoking vipers. It had been a disaster in the training missions and Tyrol had to suffer the consequences of it. Three vipers out of action. If that hadn't put him in a bad enough mood, Athena had missed her landing and ended up scraping the deck, sending off sparks and ruining the underside of the Raptor. The communications were shot, and the engine looked ready to explode. Tyrol had looked at the wreck in a detached manner, before stating that he needed a drink before he even _began _to look at it.

It was now a few hours later, and he was on his way back from Joe's Bar. Having had only one drink, Tyrol now deemed the Raptor worthy enough of his attention. Pushing aside a cart, he moved towards where the broken bird had been situated.

"What the-?" He asked in surprise, looking around. On the ground in front of him were a wrench and a pipe, dribbling fuel. Scanning the area, The Chief drew blanks. It was right there, he knew it, and yet as he looked again, there was no sign of a Raptor.

"Oh frak." He stated, picking up the wrench. He was going to be in big trouble now.

**CIC**

**Battlestar Galactica**

"Training couldn't have gone worse." Tigh informed Adama as they stood around the centre table. Above them came the calming noise of a Dradis free of enemy contacts. Adama turned towards his XO, his gaze intense. Sensing his eyes, Tigh straightened imperceptibly. He was biting the inside of his cheek, wanting to verbally attack the frakwits they called pilots. Instead he settled with telling him of the damage done.

"Three vipers out of action and a Raptor in need of repair. Those asteroids were some of the easiest shots out there."

"That's enough Colonel." Adama said, although he was smiling slightly. Having known Tigh for many years, he knew when he was holding back on comments. He was glad that he had refrained from saying anything too nasty. The one thing they didn't need right now was a hit to their morale.

"Yes sir," Tigh replied, his shoulders slumping slightly, "It sure is quiet out there."

"It is," Adama agreed, looking up at the Dradis console, "Haven't seen or heard from the Cylons since the attack near the beginning of the Nebula."

"I wonder what they're up to." The XO murmured, scratching absentmindedly at his growing stubble. Ellen had liked his beard. _Stop it you metal son of a bitch,_ he thought to himself angrily, _now is not the time to be mourning. _

"Let's not dwell on it. Just be glad that we're safe at the moment." Adama stated, his hands clasped tightly in front.

"Sir," Dee called out, holding her hand over her headset, "The president is on line one."

Adama picked up the phone slowly, bringing it to his ear. The warm voice of Roslin sounded on the other end.

"Admiral," She greeted him, fatigue in her voice, "I just wanted to let you know in advance that I will be heading for Galactica in about an hour."

"You're welcome anytime Madam President." He replied, glancing up around CIC. Tigh was grinning at him, his eyebrow raised in amusement. He returned his attention back to the phone, not wanting his XO to get the wrong idea.

"Admiral? Are you still there?" Came Roslin's voice.

"I'm still here."

"Good. I participated in a press conference. They demanded answers about the Cylon model. I reprimanded them, but I think we need to discuss answers we can give to the fleet and-"

"Sir." Dee's voice called out again, this time with a tone of urgency. Adama looked questioningly at the small woman, wondering what she wanted.

"A Raptor has just left the Galactica. It's heading away from the fleet at a fast pace. There is nothing on the rota about any flight training at this time. Suggested course of action?"

"Madam President, I'm going to have to call back. It seems a Raptor has just departed without permission." He spoke into the phone calmly, but he felt his stomach clench in anger and shock.

"Of course Admiral," Roslin replied immediately, "Do you know who the pilot is?"

"I have an idea." Adama replied gruffly, slamming the phone down on the console in front.

"Who the frak is flying that thing!?" Tight roared, staring wild-eyed at the crew around him. They remained silent, their gazes fixed on the Dradis screen. The dot that indicated the Raptor was moving fast, towards the edge of the screen.

"Sir," Dee stated again quickly, regaining Adama's attention, "Suggested course of action?" She fixed her headset in place, waiting for the command to call emergency vipers.

"Let it go." Adama commanded, turning his intense gaze to the Dradis screen. The dot suddenly disappeared, leaving a silence within CIC. The crew looked from the Admiral to each other confused. Dee moved back to her station, rechecking the flight records.

Tigh slowly moved over towards the Admiral, before muttering;

"What in Gods names just happened Bill?"

Adama kept his gaze trained on the console, his face remaining stoic and passive. No emotions played in his eyes, and his voice betrayed nothing.

"Starbuck happened." He replied. One thought ran repeatedly through his head as the crew became animated once more and Tigh stalked away. _Why? _

**A/N**

**Since you waited so patiently for chapter 12, I have done chapter 13 also for you all.**

**Hope you enjoyed it. Chapter 14 should be up soon. **


	14. Cavil's Orders

**Authors Note**

**Thankyou to those that reviewed and thankyou to those who are persevering this story. It is much appreciated. Here's another chapter for everyone. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters what-so-ever, so please don't sue. If you're still keen on suing me, then do it over the story that you think is the best. Leave me a little bit of ego as I go to prison.**

**Resurrection Ship**

**Cylon Fleet**

D'anna gasped, fighting for air. She desperately spread her arms out, trying to grasp something to steady herself and keep her head above what she was laying in. A thick liquid substance rocked back and forth around her and sloshed over the side when she made a particularly fast movement.

All thoughts evaporated from D'anna's head as she frantically breathed in and out, swallowing lungfuls of air just in case she was pulled back under. When she started to calm down, the cylon model moved her head slightly to the left and right, taking in her surroundings.

_Where was she? _The tub she was sitting in was large, covering all of her body and leaving just her head above liquid level. Wherever she was, it didn't look too inviting. As if sensing her distress, a voice spoke soothingly from beside her.

"The first time _is _the worst, they're right. You having just been brought back, I'm sure it's agony to be sitting there."

A man, wearing dark clothes and a hat that shadowed his face, sat down next to her, his hand lightly drawing circles in the liquid surrounding D'anna. She gazed at him, wary of who he was and feeling slightly self conscious about the fact that she wasn't wearing anything.

She concentrated on his mutterings. Something about being just brought back. She was just brought back? What did that mean? Suddenly, a montage of memories threatened to overtake her. _A temple, bearing the marks of the Eye of Jupiter, A man, long hair and a beard, something about a Chosen person, an opera house, five looming white figures-_

"The Final Five." D'anna gasped, trying to remember what had happened.

"Ah, you always did cut right to the chase, D'anna." The man replied, having heard her statement. As if triggered, more memories came flooding back, and she soon recognised the man sitting next to her.

"Cavil." She whispered, moving her hands to the edge of the tub. Cavil quickly withdrew his hand from the water, smiling slightly. There was a strange gleam in his eyes and D'anna wondered what he was up to.

"The other models will be pleased to know that you are here, talking."

"Why am I here?"

"Think, number three. Why are you sitting here in the resurrection tank?"

"This has something to do with the Final Five." D'anna whispered wryly. She lay back in the surrounding opaque gel that was keeping her suspended, trying to concentrate on the memories that were now flying at her, thick and fast. She remembered the Temple of The Five. The faces of the cylons danced around her mind, drawing ever closer to her conscious thoughts. Cavil was staring at her, his eyes intense.

He was completely against bringing her back. There was a reason why they were programmed not to think about the Final Five, and they were going against God by hearing what this insubordinate little model had to say about them. The safety of their creation seemed to have taken priority over Gods will, and Cavil was determined that it could not go on for much longer. He had to stop this revelation.

"You seem to be deep in thought," He murmured, his hand resting on the side of the tank, "tell me, what's on your mind?"

"I've been brought back here to tell you what I know about them," She replied slowly, her eyes searching for his. They met and D'anna shivered slightly, not liking what she saw. There was coldness behind them, "but you don't seem to be happy about it."

"You're a smart one D'anna," Cavil said, smiling. It didn't reach his eyes, "it's just bad luck that it had to be you who over stepped your mark. We could have afforded to lose a slightly dumber model."

"I have seen things that only God Himself has," D'anna whispered reverently, placing her soaked hand over his, "I have seen _them. _So beautiful … When you see them, you'll see the beauty also."

"How are we going to know who they really are though?" He asked, in a soft, patronising voice.

"They are close. I can feel them. You'll know as soon as I have left this tank."

D'anna went to pull herself up, but Cavil placed a hand gently on her slippery shoulder.

"You're not going anywhere D'anna," he said, his voice holding authority, "I promised them that you would be resurrected. I did _not _promise them anything more. You are alive. Be thankful for that."

With that, he moved away, his footsteps echoing across the empty chamber. D'anna was left alone, moving restlessly in the tank, thinking.

**Central Computer**

**Cylon Basestar**

"Reduce atmospheric Nitrogen by 0.07. For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son. Thankyou. Thankyou. Reduction occurs stepwise though the essence is all one. End of line."

"What's it saying, do you think?" Number Six asked, slowly moving around the Hybrid. Its head lolled back onto the floor behind it. The Hybrid was located in an immersion tank, built into the floor. The silence of the room was often punctuated by mutterings that none of the Seven could decipher.

"I think," Leoben replied, "that it is speaking the Voice of God."

Six crouched down, taking in all the wires and gel surrounding the Cylon in question. It was not merely another metal raider. This hybrid, although not humanoid, was something special.

"Propulsion, navigation, climate control. It speaks in either science or riddles. If this is truly the voice of God, than maybe we are not meant to understand Him."

"Maybe," Leoben agreed, coming to a halt at the side of the tank. He looked softly at the Hybrid, listening to it mutter. Six stood back up and turned towards the number two behind her, her eyes questioning. He had suggested that they came down here, to see if the Hybrid released any information about The Final Five. So far, it had only changed the climate and recited phrases. Six was starting to think that it was a waste of time, but something kept her in the room, an expectation, a hope. Maybe the Hybrid would say something. Even if it did, she realised grudgingly, they probably wouldn't be able to understand it.

"Neuronal network run 26, repair ordered to relay zero, zero, one, three, five. End of line. She has been brought back, life given but only to be taken away by one who does not want to give. Separation, conflict, boxing. End of line. Nominal temperatures remain at point three …"

Leoben stood silently, mulling over the last statement. Six also was quiet, her gaze fixated on the Hybrid in front of her. It had mentioned one who was to be brought back to life.

"What did it say afterwards?" Six asked, looking at Leoben in curiosity. He shook his head, muttering to himself, repeating the lines over and over. After a while, something clicked and his head jolted up.

"Life given but only to be taken away by one who does not want to give."

Six kept her eyes steadily trained on him, imploring him to fill her in on something she must obviously be missing.

"Who was sent to unbox number three?" He asked quickly, pacing the floor in irritation.

"A number one, Cavil. Why?"

"He was the only one who disagreed with unboxing her. It was a majority vote, but since when has Cavil played by the rules?"

Everything fell into place in Six's mind, and she opened her mouth in anger, ready to say something. He had cheated them. Cavil wasn't going to unbox her, and if he did, she was going to suffer a fate worse than being boxed.

"We've got to stop him, now!" She said urgently, moving quickly towards the other end of the room, where the exit was located. Leoben quickly jogged after her. As they reached the exit, a voice called out behind them. It was the hybrid, and it sounded like a desperate plea for help.

"One line will cease exist, the others live on in unity. Not before a conflict. The Shape of things to come draws ever nearer. Nitrogen levels decrease to 0.03. End line," It gasped, "Jump."

"No! Don't jump!" Screamed Six, but it was too late, and both she and Leoben were knocked off their feet, as all the ships jumped away.

**Resurrection Ship**

**Cylon Fleet**

D'anna looked on in anger as the fleet around her jumped away. Cavil had destroyed the Resurrection Ship's FTL drive, leaving the ship in question still drifting through space.

She was alone now. Moving around slowly, she brought a towel to her body and started to wipe the gel off. It was an arduous process, but it took her mind off of anything else. When she had finished, D'anna picked up spare clothing that had been carefully and thoughtfully placed next to her tank.

_I guess Cavil is good for something, _she thought bitterly, pulling the shirt over her head and buttoning her trousers. The ship hung suspended in space, alone. She was the only model aboard the ship. The fleet had two resurrection ships with them, so they were not in need of her. The other models had wanted her back, Cavil had said, so surely they must realise what he has done? They'd come back for her, D'anna knew it. Her knowledge of the Final Five meant that she was not going to be alone, not for long.

_The only question is, _she pondered, walking past the deserted resurrection tanks, _who would find her first. The cylons or the humans?_

Either way, it wouldn't be long. All she had to do was wait. D'anna sat down next to an empty tank, placing her fingers slowly in the gel and tracing circles. The Final Five were drawing closer, she could feel them.

**A/N**

**Ok so this was a cylon-based chapter. Next chapter up soon. **


	15. A Breakdown in Communication

**Authors Note**

**Ok, so here is chapter 15. Enjoy. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters what-so-ever, so please don't sue. If you're still keen on suing me, then do it over the story that you think is the best. Leave me a little bit of ego as I go to prison.**

**Lee's Quarters**

**Colonial One**

Tory strode through entrance to Lee's quarters, leaving the curtain flapping wildly in her wake. Glancing up from his files, he could see that she was deeply aggravated, her nostrils flared. However, she quickly recomposed herself before looking directly at Lee.

"Vice President Zarek is here." She stated. Suddenly, her mood and entrance all made sense to Lee, as he closed his eyes in frustration. Tom Zarek, singularly _the _most annoying man in the fleet. President Roslin's trust in him since New Caprica did not alleviate the man's past, and no matter what, he was always first and foremost a terrorist in Lee's mind. A man who uses charm, persuasion and bribery to get what he wants. A man who uses other human beings as a means to an end to accomplish his ambitions. Lee did not trust Tom Zarek, and so, felt extremely annoyed when Tory had walked in and told him who was waiting.

"Thankyou Tory." A silent communication passed between them, _get him off of this ship and soon._

Lee slowly moved to get up and walked resolutely past Tory. She patted him on the arm in sympathy before moving towards the desk to collect folders. He shook his head, and walked through the curtain.

Tom Zarek had sat himself down on one of the plush, first-class chairs, his suitcase located at his feet. When he realised that Lee was present, Tom quickly got up and moved to shake his hand. His smile was formal, and did not reach his eyes. Much the same as his own, Lee realised, grasping the man's hand firmly.

"Mr Zarek."

"Do call me Tom." That annoying smile again.

"Tom," Lee decided to humour the man, knowing that the sooner the conversation finished, the sooner he could wash his hands of him, "what brings you aboard?"

"I see you've got the president's aide working at your beck and call, Lee." Zarek said, looking over the young Adama's shoulder. A rustle of a curtain informed Lee that Tory had come back into the room. Turning around, he caught a scowl directed at Tom by Tory. There was a mutual hate between the two of them. Turning back towards the vice-president, Lee smiled before saying;

"That's Mr Adama." His smile equalled Tom's. Both were forced, unattached to what they were really thinking and feeling. Tom's eyes twinkled in amusement, as he murmured;

"Touché Mr Adama."

"What brings you here _Tom_?" Lee repeated, still standing. Tom looked as if he was about to sit back down, but decided against it as the other man was still on his feet. Lee had learnt a lot of Admiral Cain, one of these things being that if you wanted to get rid of someone quicker, do not offer any seating.

"I was wondering if I could talk to the President? It is my right as Vice President, you know." He reminded Lee, the fake smile still plastered on his face.

"I'm afraid she's not onboard at this moment in time. She's on Galactica receiving treatment. If that's all …" He indicated towards the door that led to the small docking bay on the Colonial One. Tom chose to ignore the obvious hint.

"Well you see, the Quorum are a bit on edge. It is my duty to ask Laura-"

"President Roslin." Lee interrupted, gritting his teeth.

"-President Roslin," Zarek corrected himself quickly, "about the sudden departure of a Raptor from Galactica, containing Kara Thrace, that occurred a few hours ago."

Lee's throat went dry and he had trouble talking. A few hours ago? The President had left the ship about half hour ago. She knew and she didn't tell him. _Maybe she didn't know, _a voice contradicted inside his mind, _or maybe she found out, but refused to believe it. She's probably getting the facts straight right now. Kara, what have you done?_

"Oh really?" Lee asked, masking his face to one of boredom. The news about Kara had come as a sudden shock, but to show that to Tom would he extremely dangerous. The man could play dirty, and he didn't want him gleaning any information that he wasn't ready to divulge.

"Yes, really," Zarek smiled once again. He had watched Lee's face closely and knew that what he had just said was new to the young man. It was time he took his leave, "well, maybe another time. I'll make an appointment in advance next time."

Picking up his briefcase, he moved towards the door earlier indicated by Lee. However, as he reached it, Tom stopped and turned around. Something glinted in his eyes as he spoke;

"No reason to get excited," he stated, "about the Raptor incident. I'm sure it'll be sorted out soon enough."

He then left, humming to himself. Lee stood still, his eyes fixated on the spot where Tom had just been.

"Tory!" He called out.

"Yes?" Tory replied, irritated.

"Where is the President currently?"

"Life Station according to her schedule. Why?"

"I want to speak to her, and the Admiral."

**Tyrol's Quarters**

**Battlestar Galactica**

The echoes of a baby crying rang through the room, as Tyrol opened the hatch into his and Cally's quarters. Looking around, he spotted Nicky in the make-shift cot, tears streaking down his face. Tyrol was immediately at his side, picking the boy up.

"Shh, shh, it's ok Nicky. Don't cry." He whispered lovingly as he nuzzled the child's head. Nicky kept crying, however.

"Shhh. What started you off, huh?" His attempts at placating Nicky were not working, and he decided that he was going to have to think of something else. It clicked suddenly, and Tyrol felt words form in his mind.

"There must be some kind of way out of here," He started to sing quietly, his deep voice rumbling in his chest. Nicky seemed to sense this and calmed slightly, listening to the man sing, "said the joker to the thief …"

He continued to hum the tune. The words seemed to evade him, ever since they entered the nebula, but Tyrol didn't care. As long as he managed to keep Nicky quiet. Soft breathing could be heard and he knew that his son had fallen asleep. Placing him back in his cot, Tyrol moved towards the rack. As he did so, a noise resounded from the head. It sounded as if something fell, and he groaned in frustration. The place was a mess, and he didn't want to go pick it up. He was too tired. However, another bang resounded and this caused Galen to jump slightly. That was no accident. Someone was in the quarters with him.

"Hello?" He called uncertainly, moving towards the door separating him from the intruder. A muffled sob echoed, and Tyrol grew alarmed. It sounded like Cally.

"Cally, honey?" He called through the door, "I'm going to come in ok?"

Pushing open the door, he stopped in surprise. Cally was sitting, clutching her knees, sitting back against the wall. She was shaking, tears streaking down her fragile face. Tyrol moved quickly to her side, running his hand soothingly through her hair. Cally angrily batted it away however, her teeth gritted together as she pushed herself up off of the floor. Tyrol was hurt, but it soon turned into concern. What was going on?

Suddenly remembering why he was here in the first place, he looked around the room for the source of the banging noises. On the ground a few feet away from his wife, he spotted a large bag. It was half full, with simple necessities such as soap and flannels. Cally saw his line of sight and pushed past him, hoisting the bag over her shoulder.

"Where are you going?" Tyrol asked quietly, watching as she strode out of the head and into their main living quarters. After a few moments of silence, he heard drawers being thrown open and the rustling of clothes. This was serious, he realized and he moved back to where she was.

"Somewhere." She replied steadily, but Galen could hear emotion thick in her voice. Nicky gurgled in his cot, his arms held out for attention. Cally heard it, and moved towards her son, picking him up and holding him in her left arm.

"Cally, don't do this." Tyrol warned her, moving forward. Cally stopped in her tracks, wary, and he realized what that must have sounded like. He wasn't threatening her, not at all. To prove this, he held up his hands and spread his fingers.

"Don't do what Galen!?" She suddenly screamed, more tears running down her face, "Huh!?"

"What's going on?" Tyrol asked, confused. Less than a month ago, things had been perfectly fine. They worked as an effective team, taking care of Nicky, taking care of Vipers. What had changed since then?

"You tell me," She sobbed, moving towards her bag again. Juggling Nicky in her arms, she managed to throw some clothes in the bag and zip it up tightly, "tell me the truth Galen. Now's your only chance."

She looked at him in both defiance and hope. Her eyes searched his, hungry for the truth. Tyrol felt his stomach turn. She knew something, and was giving him the chance to admit to it. Now was his chance. To tell Cally his secret that he had been harboring for so long, _too_ long. It was on the tip of his tongue. _Just say it, _he thought furiously, _get it over with. Talk it out._

Something overrode the urge and he heard his own distant reply;

"Tell you what Cally?"

Cally's shoulders visibly slumped and a sob was wrenched from her mouth. He wasn't going to admit it to her. Their marriage was null and void as far as she was concerned.

"I'm going. It's over Chief."

Her words and use of his title stung him. He had passed up the opportunity, both hurting himself and causing hurt in his family. Cally slammed the hatch shut behind her, leaving Tyrol alone in the silence of his room. Nicky's cries echoed down the corridor, and he huddled on his rack, as tears tracked down his cheeks.

**A/N**

**Well, here you go. Next chapter up sometime very soon. Reviews are more than welcome. Oh and a cookie to whoever can spot something, shall we say, 'musical' in the first part of this chapter. **


	16. Visions

Authors Note

**Authors Note**

**Chapter 16, here we go.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters what-so-ever, so please don't sue. If you're still keen on suing me, then do it over the story that you think is the best. Leave me a little bit of ego as I go to prison.**

**Life Station**

**Battlestar Galactica**

"I don't trust him." Adama stated, his eyes narrowed in thought.

"Of course you don't," Roslin replied softly, amusement in her tone, "he's a politician."

Lee looked between the two. He had taken the first shuttle available over to the Galactica, to tell President Roslin about what Zarek had told him. She seemed surprised, laying on a hospital bed, that the Quorum had known so soon about Kara's departure.

"This will be all over the fleet in a few hours," she said, wearily rubbing her face. She sighed, and closed her eyes. The lights above her were becoming too intense, and she longed for the soft shade of Adama's quarters, "I'd have Tory set up another conference, but I don't think I'd be able to get through it. Not like this."

Her last sentence was met with a stony silence as the Adama men looked at the woman in front of them. Suddenly, Roslin's eye's shot open and she winced at the sudden headache. She shifted her position so she could see Lee and said;

"I was going to tell you. However, I thought it best that I obtained all the information first."

"I didn't doubt you Madam President." Lee stated immediately, relief coursing through him. _She was going to tell me, _the inner voice said smugly, _I was right. _

"That's good," She whispered smiling, "doubt only worsens a strong, working relationship."

Seeing Roslin looking so weak and frail caused a lump to rise in Lee's throat. His father sat beside her, an opened book in his hand. He had interrupted them, tearing through the curtains to talk to the President. Looking at his fathers face, Lee could see sadness, anger and something else …

"Lee, please tell Tory-"

"I could do the conference for you, Madam President," he blurted out suddenly. He hadn't thought this through, but he kept talking, "that is, if you want me to of course."

He winced, hoping to the Gods that she'd politely decline. He didn't know what possessed him to say it, and was starting to get anxious at the surprised silence that met his offer. Bill looked at his son in both surprise but also pride. Roslin however, had her eyes closed yet again. A smile played around her mouth.

"That would be a real help, thankyou."

"Anytime." H replied, mentally kicking himself for even offering it. He wasn't a good public speaker, especially when he did not know what to say. Having lots of people shouting questions at him was not going to be a fun experience.

"That will be all, Lee." Adama stated, standing up slowly. He was staring intensely at Roslin and gestured towards the curtains. Lee understood and they both moved just outside, so they were not in view of the President.

"Thankyou." Adama said simply. Lee smiled and nodded in acknowledgement. Coming from his father, that was one hell of a compliment.

"What're you going to do about Starbuck?" Lee asked, concerned. His father would have a plan of action, he always did. Bill remained silent for a few seconds, before steadily replying;

"We're going to stay here for now. If she's going to come back, we want her to come back to _us. _If we jump away, chances are we'll never see her again."

"That's it?" Lee asked incredulously, "no rescue missions? Nothing?"

"We would attempt a rescue mission," Adama assured him, "if we knew where she had jumped to. There are millions of possibilities. She's Starbuck. She'll come back to us, I'm sure of it."

"Ok." Lee grudgingly accepted. The silence after the conversation was broken by a scream. It came from behind the curtains and by the time Lee had registered that it had come from the President, the Admiral was already tearing the curtains apart, moving towards her.

Roslin was shuddering violently, her head turning from left to right, repeatedly hitting her pillow. Adama grasped her hand and pulled it up to his face, stilling that arm. She tried to unconsciously jerk it away, but he held on, shouting towards Lee;

"Get Cottle in here! Now!"

Lee just stood dumbstruck at the sight before him .It looked as if Roslin was having a seizure of some sort, muttering under her breath. Coming back to his senses, Lee shouted into the main part of Life station.

"Doc Cottle! Cottle!"

It seemed like hours, but was only a few minutes, before Doctor Cottle came racing in, his face red from exertion.

"Get out of the way!" He barked at Lee, pushing past him. Moving quickly towards the convulsing woman, Cottle looked at the machines surrounding her.

"Her heartbeat has gone up drastically," He said loudly, "but there seems to be nothing medically wrong. It's not like last time." Adama was trying to soothe her, whispering her name over and over, his eyes locked firmly on her face, which now had a layer of sweat on it.

After a while, Roslin started to shake less. Her body slowly settled back onto the bed, her breath coming short and sharp. Cottle moved away slightly, giving the woman some room. Adama, however, still firmly held her hand. Roslin's eyes flew open and she gasped, taking in lungfuls of air. She looked around wild eyed, before resting her gaze on Adama. Relief flooded through her, and she brought her other hand shakily up to her face.

"Bill." she croaked, her eyes closing once again.

"What is it, Laura?" He asked gently, waiting patiently for her to continue. Lee felt, once again, as if he was intruding on a private moment. Cottle must have felt the same, as he turned back towards the curtains and exited, muttering, "I need a shot of morpha for this …"

"Bill," Laura repeated faintly again. Her eyes were fixed on his, "The Final Five. It's going to happen soon."

Suddenly remembering that Lee was in the curtained room with them, Adama turned towards him and said;

"That will be all thankyou Lee."

He understood the message immediately, smiling reassuringly at his father and leaving the Life Station. Adama turned back towards Roslin.

"You had a vision?" The words were no longer said sceptically like previous times. This time it was a genuine question, almost as if he believed in these visions. Laura nodded faintly, before clearing her throat slightly and tightening her hold on his hand.

"Yes," She said. Her voice was still raspy, and her eyes fluttered close in weariness, "They came to me, and told me. The time will come when they can't hide anymore."

"I look forward to it." Adama stated dryly, sitting back down next to her but not releasing her hand. He picked up the book off the floor, just as Roslin said;

"Please finish the book, Bill. I would love to hear the ending."

So he continued to read to her, until her eyelids dropped and sleep claimed her.

**Agathon's Quarters**

**Battlestar Galactica**

"Sharon!? Sharon! Wake up!"

Sharon felt a gentle tug on her arm, and her eyes flew open. She was breathing heavily, lying on her back spread eagle. Her covers were tangled around her legs, as if she had restlessly tried to kick them off. Karl was hovering over her, trying to determine what was wrong. He had been woken by the sound of his wife screaming and was then pushed onto the floor by a hard kick.

Glancing up groggily, he could see her sweating and convulsing. He had then become more alert and had spent minutes just trying to get her to wake up. Finally, he pulled her arm and she had woken up.

Sharon's breathing had calmed down, and she now glanced at Karl in recognition. Moving quickly, she sat up in the bed, wiping her forehead with her hand. She was sweating profusely, wondering what had happened. Suddenly, it all rushed back to her. She shuddered as she remembered.

"A nightmare?" Karl asked softly, sitting down beside her. He pulled her into his embrace and rocked her gently. She made no protest at it, but did not return the hug either. He could feel her tense up, and drew back slowly, glancing at her face.

Sharon's eyes were blank, and Karl grew more concerned.

"Sharon, what is it?"

She didn't respond to his voice, didn't even acknowledge it. Instead, she faced straight ahead, her gaze locked on the cot nearby where Hera lay peacefully. It triggered a response from her and Karl jumped in surprise as she sobbed suddenly.

"They want her Karl." She whispered, her palm wiping away the tears that were now coming thick and fast. Her voice was thick with emotion.

"Who want her?" He urged her gently to elaborate. These nightmares were becoming increasingly more common, and Karl had half a mind to go see the Doctor and get some sleeping pills for her. It wasn't good.

"They're coming and soon." Her response was cryptic and Karl felt slightly annoyed. He wanted to know who were coming to allegedly try and take their child from them. He was going to prepare for their arrival.

"Who?" He prompted, "Who are coming, Sharon?"

"The Final Five." Her reply was steady, but laced with fear and defeat.

"We'll fight them Sharon. I won't let anyone near Hera. I promise."

"You can't fight them Karl. They'll come. We can't stop them. Only they can stop themselves. Two will try and kill her. Two will try and save her. One will watch and bear the ultimate judgement. It has been written, and so will it happen."

Her statement chilled Karl, as he gently pulled Sharon back onto the rack and covered her with a blanket. He did not sleep that night, instead choosing to watch over Hera as she and her mother slept on.

**A/N**

**Wow. 3 chapters up in one day! Hope you're keeping up alright with the story. I am focusing a lot on the final five, more than finding earth, but don't worry, there will be more about earth later on. **


	17. Two Ships Passing in the Night

**Authors Note**

**Sorry for the really long delay! I've been busy being told to revise and then pretending to revise, until I actually realised 'hang on a minute, these are my AS levels, I should really revise'. But enough about my life story, on with this one!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters what-so-ever, so please don't sue. If you're still keen on suing me, then do it over the story that you think is the best. Leave me a little bit of ego as I go to prison.**

**Unchartered Territory**

**5 jumps away from Galactica & Fleet**

"Frak me." Kara muttered to herself, looking uneasily out of the window in front of her. She didn't know where she was, and that thought alone worried her slightly. Using the coordinates that seemingly jumped into her mind, Kara had managed to end up alone, in a vast expanse of nothingness.

There wasn't a planet in sight, only distant stars blinking at her as her raptor nervously nudged forwards at her control. Taking a long sweeping glance around her, she decided that this was definitely not the place she wanted to be. It would be a perfect location for a Cylon ambush, and Kara certainly did not want that to happen.

"Ok Kara, try again. Think plan of action, think plan of action." She repeated to herself. It was a comforting mantra, keeping her sane as she sat wearily in the raptor seat. Her plan of action sounded so simple, but implementing it seemed more difficult than Starbuck first assumed.

"Steal a raptor, find earth, jump back and lead everyone to civilisation." She said out loud. It seemed that vocalising the thought made it sound even more complicated and Kara burst into laughter. She had made it sound so easy, so quick to complete when she had first jumped away from the fleet. It had been days, and yet here she was, still searching for the elusive planet.

"C'mon you frakker. You gotta be here somewhere."

Pulling her raptor up slightly, Kara caught sight of something. It was too large to be a distant star, and its shape excluded the possibility of floating debris or rocks. It was long and as she pushed the raptor cautiously closer, she could see that it was very large. Suddenly, it clicked in her mind. She had seen this type of structure before, when she was seated in a Blackbird, relaying images to the late Admiral Cain.

Kara eased back the thrusters, and the Raptor remained suspended in space, as she glorified in the sight before her. A long ship passed lazily in front, with no force driving it in a particular direction. It was as if someone had cut the power to the ship and left it to drift needlessly through space. Kara wondered where the rest of the fleet had gone as the giant resurrection ship passed by.

"Whoa," She said loudly, backing the Raptor up slightly, "this is not good." Any minute now, a cylon fleet could appear. It could be a trick, the alarms in her mind warned her. Yet, Kara subconsciously knew that this was not the case. This ship was just as defenceless as she was, left long ago by its creators. Kara wondered where the occupants of the ship had disappeared to. Wherever there was a resurrection ship, there were skinjobs, and Kara Thrace liked to kill those sons of toaster bitches. The ship looked abandoned, however, and she felt disappointment surge through her. How she would have loved to have seen their faces as she blew their ship to smithereens.

Cautiously, the Raptor moved forward, coming up alongside the Cylon ship. Peering to her left, Kara could see hundreds of tubs sitting in the darkness, sloshing their contents everywhere. A flicker of movement caught her eye, and Kara edged the raptor more. A shadow had appeared. It looked human in shape and she felt anticipation well up inside of her. Maybe there was a skinjob to kill after all. There was only one way to tell, she thought eagerly to herself as she pushed the raptor towards the ship, she'd have to go in and see. Kara Thrace smiled to herself. Whoever was in there was in for a big surprise.

**Meeting Room,**

**Battlestar Galactica**

"Excuse me!" Zarek shouted futilely above the large gathering. Representatives from each colony were gathered in the one room, either engaged in heated debates or chatting amiably to eachother. Zarek grimaced as a particularly loud laugh erupted from the other side of the room. A dull ache was niggling at his temples and he wanted nothing more than to relax with a nice drink on his own ship. The sooner this meeting was over and done with, he mused, the better. There was no love lost between the Vice President and the Quorum.

"Where's the President?" Lee roared over the noise. Zarek winced as Lee was standing right by his ear. The Military Advisor noticed Tom's reaction and apologised a lot gentler, pushing his way past a delegate from Sagittaron.

"I don't know," Zarek answered curtly, annoyed at the lack of Laura Roslin's presence, "She should have been here fifteen minutes ago." He attempted once again to quieten the room, but to no avail. They talked over him. It seemed that a terrorist turned Vice President did not appeal to them at all.

Suddenly a large bang at the hatch resounded through the room, and all eyes turned towards it. The representatives sat down efficiently, their gazes fixed on whoever was entering the room. The hatch groaned as it opened and in walked the President, supported by Admiral Adama. As they reached her seat in the centre of the table, Roslin reluctantly pulled her arm out of his grip, offering a polite "thankyou Admiral" and slowly sitting down in the chair provided.

Zarek noticed Adama look towards her, his eyes burning with worry, though his stoic façade revealed little of it. He then abruptly turned around and marched out of the room, slamming the hatch behind him. Zarek and Roslin both winced as it swung shut. The room was in silence, after watching the entrance with a great deal of interest. They knew about her cancer, but were unsure until now of the extent that it affected her everyday activities. She had seemed so frail as she entered the room, but as they glanced at her now, she seemed calm and perfectly poised, her face showing strength and resilience.

"I apologise for the lateness. My meeting with the Admiral ran on longer than first expected."

"Madam President," Zarek stood up, smiling falsely. The ache now moved through to just above his right eye, "Your lateness is of course excused. We are just glad that you could make it today."

Roslin frowned at his overly friendly response, looking at him over her glasses. She bit back a short remark, instead turning her attention to the folder in front of her. It contained the agenda for the meeting. There seemed to be fewer topics on it than normal, and Roslin suspected it was because the members were worried about how many topics she could take. The thought made her sigh inwardly. It was enough that Adama insisted on supporting her everywhere, but now the whole Quorum were treating her as if she was going to drop dead at a moments notice. She appreciated Adama's gesture, but insisting on cutting down the topics meant that there would be yet another meeting sooner than she would have liked with the Quorum.

Zarek sat down smartly next to her, knowing that she was in no mood to play games and reply to his gesture. The quorum, that had been silent, now burst forth in conversation, trying to shout over eachother. Roslin closed her eyes tight, her hand coming up and tangling in her hair. It was a futile attempt to keep a headache at bay, Zarek knew that.

"Please," She called out steadily, "can we all focus on the topics at hand!?"

The Quorum continued to talk, ignoring the President. This annoyed Zarek greatly, and he whispered in Roslin's ear;

"Let me handle this Madam President."

He stood up abruptly and roared above the din, "Everyone please! The President wants to speak!"

The Quorum eventually fell silent, looking at the man towering over them. Roslin nodded her head wearily at Zarek and smiled gratefully. Smiling in return, Tom sat down, waiting expectantly for her to stand up and speak.

Roslin did not disappoint. She slowly stood up, keeping her palms flat on the table to support herself, and cleared her throat.

"Let's get right down to it, shall we? First topic of discussion is the Cylon currently being held in the brig. Now as I have told the Press, we are currently extracting useful information from the subject in question-"

"With all due respect, Madam President," A delegate from Picon interrupted her, "This prisoner is an immense threat to the fleet, and could have been the cause of the battle in the Ionian Nebula."

"I am fully aware of that suspicion," Roslin assured the woman, "however, we are gathering some important information regarding the Cylon race, and will continue to do so, with or without the support of this Quorum."

"I'm sorry Madam President," A man, a representative from Tauron stood up, "but we as the Quorum have great influence and power in topics discussed. You seem to be under the impression that you hold full authority over subjects such as this."

Muttering broke out in the room, most people nodding in agreement to what the man had said. Lee got up uncertainly, clearing his throat for attention.

"Excuse me," he called out, and the room went quiet, "the President is right. Getting anything useful about our enemy is imperative at this moment in time. The Quorum may have problems with this decision, but I will say this; if forced, this can be made a military decision."

An uproar of voices started, shouting both at Lee and the President, who was looking just as surprised as them at Lee's statement.

"You cannot blame the President! She has no right over any military decision made. The decision is in the hands of the Admiral, and his hands only." Lee continued, shouting over the noise.

This brought even more sound as the delegates abruptly stood up, leaning forward to shout at Lee, trying to make their voices heard over the person next to them. Lee just shook his head and waved his hands, calling out to Roslin;

"Madam President, I think now would be a good time to stop this meeting!"

Roslin nodded quickly, her eyes taking in the scene before her. Some were red in the face, angrily shouting at her, imploring her to see sense. She walked out of the hatch in a dignified silence, barely holding herself up.

Zarek smiled slightly, and followed suit, leaving a dishevelled Lee shouting himself hoarse at the angry occupants of the room. Once he was on the outside of the door, Zarek's headache receded slightly, and he felt himself relax.

"There's too much confusion," he muttered to himself, before walking down the corridor towards the hangar Bay. Maybe if he made it back quickly, there would still be some alcohol left aboard his ship.

**A/N**

**I'm sorry if this chapter seems quite pointless to you, but it's setting the scene for later chapters. Review if you want.**


	18. Somewhere called Home

**Authors Note**

**Sorry for the long, long delay in updating! I have exams coming up (first one is on Monday) and so I've had to sit and revise Stalinist Russia for my history exam and Sociological Methods for my sociology exam!! Ok well, here is chapter 18. Thank you to those who have reviewed! Some positive feedback is always nice so thanks, I appreciate it. Thank you to those who have read it so far aswell! Chapter 18 for y'all. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters what-so-ever, so please don't sue. If you're still keen on suing me, then do it over the story that you think is the best. Leave me a little bit of ego as I go to prison.**

**Storage Room**

**Faru Sadin**

"What are you thinking?"

Caprica Six gazed expectantly over at Gaius, who was sitting crosslegged on top of a cardboard box. His followers surrounded him, their eagle eyes trained on him, not letting him out of their sights for a second. They did not want to miss a thing. Gaius Baltar talks to the Gods, they thought hungrily, he is our salvation.

"Can't talk right now," Baltar whispered out of the corner of his mouth. His eyes were closed, but muttering broke out quietly, and he knew that the followers had caught that he had just spoke. They were starting to annoy him now. At first Gaius was flattered, who wouldn't be? They thought he was a messiah, a God. Yet now, as they sat around him, clinging to candles, Gaius started to feel agitated, "talk later."

"But Gaius," Caprica Six continued, and he could feel the fabric of her dress pushed up against his back as she moved around him, "I want to talk now. You're obviously not praying to God, though you should be. What are you thinking about?"

Baltar closed his eyes more tightly and listened to the followers around him. There was small muttering from the novices of the group at the back, and he was sure that the elder members would make them pay for that later. Right now, he had a cover to talk.

"Two hybrid children?" He whispered furiously, "seems you missed out on that little detail!"

"I didn't know." Caprica Six replied, hurt, "we do not know of the Final Five."

"'We' as in the cylon models? Or 'we' as in this completely ridiculous image of a woman that I have in my mind?"

"Careful Gaius," she told him seriously, her eyes burning with anger, "you're in dangerous territory now."

"Oh I'm so sorry," He mock apologised, "I've insulted you. Well I shall make a mental note to myself not to do _that _again. After all, you could get _so_ angry, that you could leave my mind forever, and how I would hate for that to happen!"

"I think you should take that back, Gaius, right now."

"You're right," Baltar sighed in defeat, "I'm just a little agitated. What child do I have to protect?"

Caprica Six cupped his face in her hands and turned his head slightly. She brought her mouth down to his own, but stopped mere centimetres apart.

"Get aboard the Galactica and protect the one that needs it the most."

"And pray do tell me, who is that?" He asked. There was silence before him, and as he opened his eyes, Caprica Six had gone. In her place were many followers, staring at him in awe.

"I need to get aboard the Galactica," Gaius stated urgently, "now!"

**Adama's Quarters**

**Battlestar Galactica**

Adama steadily poured some drinks out. One glass of ambrosia, one glass of water. Moving towards the couch, he placed the glasses down on the coffee table and sighed as he sat down.

"Bad day?" Roslin asked sympathetically, picking up her glass of water and taking a sip. Her eyes never left Adama as she did so.

"Asks The President," He said wryly. Roslin smiled, amused at his comment, but chose to remain silent, urging him to talk to her. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, "I talked to Sharon today."

"Ah," Roslin replied, placing her glass back down. This was going to get interesting, "and I take it you two had a long, heartfelt discussion?"

Adama stared at her, but bit back any comment. There was still an air of mistrust around Roslin and the cylon in question, but he realised then that she had not meant the comment in a harsh way. She knew him too well. Any heartfelt conversation would lead to him being reserved and distant. She was merely pointing out the obvious.

"Yeah you could say that," he replied, bringing his glass to his lips. After he had swallowed a reasonable amount, he continued, "she had a nightmare. The same time you had a nightmare."

"A nightmare?" A smile played across her lips and her eyebrow rose questioningly.

"Or a vision," Adama corrected himself, staring over at her. He never thought there would be a day where he uttered those words, "anyway, she said she was pretty shaken by it."

"I'm sure she was," Roslin agreed, "did she say anything else?"

"Yeah, she said that her child is in danger."

"Well that's a given," she interrupted, softly assuring him, "she was in danger the minute she was born."

"No, this time she's in danger of the Final Five."

"Hmm," Roslin hummed in agreement. She closed her eyes and rested her head back against the couch, "maybe extra security?"

"I offered her the same thing. She refused, saying that human marines would not stop them."

"So, what, the Final Five are some kind of explosive now?"

Adama let out a bark of laughter, shaking his head in amusement. He looked over at Roslin, still smiling.

"If they are, then we are well and truly frakked."

This caused Roslin to smile, her eyes alight with laughter, "so say we all."

They sat in comfortable silence, taking in the solace offered by eachother. Adama lived for moments like this, where he could just relax in good company, and not have to worry about some major problem, be it refuelling or cylons.

"Bill?" Her voice was laced with fatigue, and he found himself looking over at her in concern.

"What is it Laura?"

"They will come, and soon. I only hope that their revelations will not hurt us both."

He gave her a deep, searching look, and when it appeared that she was sincere, he too leaned back, closing his eyes and relaxed,

"I hope so too."

**Corridor**

**Battlestar Galactica**

Anastasia Dualla moved quickly down the corridor. She was late for her shift in CIC. Dee was so used to being woken up by Lee that she had forgotten about her need for an alarm clock. Now Lee was gone, however, she realised that it would be a good investment.

The corridors were practically empty as she turned at a junction. Everyone was doing their respective jobs, whether it was repairing vipers or checking communications. Dee quickly sidestepped a jogging marine and stumbled, knocking into someone. They both fell to the ground with a soft thud. Dee winced and rolled away, getting slowly to her knees. She couldn't waste time going to Life Station, Adama would be angry if she did.

After pulling herself up into a standing position, she looked over to who she had run into. Cally Tyrol still lay on the ground, her eyes tight in pain.

"I'm sorry, really I am." Dee apologised, offering her hand out to the injured woman. Cally gratefully took it and was pulled to her feet. Dee was surprisingly strong. _It was all those sparring sessions I had with Lee, _she thought, then mentally scolded herself for always coming back to him in her thoughts.

"That's ok Dualla." Cally said quietly. It wasn't everyday that someone from CIC apologised to a knuckle-dragger. Dee gave Cally a searching look, looking for any signs of physical injury. She found none, but looked concerned as Cally caught her eye. The underneath of the specialist's eyes were dark and sunken, giving her the look of the living dead. Her hair was all over the place, and looked as if it hadn't been combed in weeks.

"Is something wrong Cally?" Dee asked, genuinely concerned. She looked like she had been to hell and back.

"It's nothing really," Cally responded quickly, self-consciously flattening her hair down and wiping her face. It only served to smear what looked like oil over her cheeks and if she wasn't looking so lost, Dee would have laughed. Instead, she moved slightly closer, waiting patiently for Cally to talk. It didn't take long.

"I left Galen," She explained brokenly, her eyes showing fatigue, "a week ago."

"Where have you been staying?"

"Deck Hands quarters. It's not much, and Nicky hates it I think, but it's the only place we've got."

"I'm sure if you explained to the Admiral he could-"

"No," Cally interrupted angrily, "I'm not going to go to the Admiral about a personal issue. It is nothing really."

Dee didn't buy it. Cally's face showed otherwise, her eyes pleading for some sort of advice, some help. Dee knew what it was like to leave a partner, and so knew exactly what the young woman before her was going through, what was going through her mind.

"You can stay with me." Dee offered, smiling slightly. Cally looked at her, surprised. She hadn't expected that.

"No, it's ok. You don't have to-" Cally's voice was drowned out by Dee, who was repeatedly assuring her.

"It's fine. I wouldn't want you and your son to be in such conditions. I insist Cally, really."

Cally's eyes stung with tears and she felt a smile pull at her mouth. Her first real smile in days.

"Thankyou." She whispered, wiping at her eyes. Dee smiled in response, before remembering why she was in this corridor in the first place.

"Frak," she swore, placing her hand over her eyes in annoyance, "I was meant to be in CIC ten minutes ago. Tigh is going to kill me. Listen," she turned to Cally, "my quarters are just up that corridor to your right, ok? Make yourself at home. I'll be back after my next shift."

"Ok," Cally replied quickly, moving off towards the corridor, "I'll go get Nicky from Daycare and my stuff. Thanks again Dee."

"No problem," Dee called over her shoulder, and started to jog towards CIC.

**A/N**

**Once again, really sorry about the long delay! You wouldn't believe the workload on my shoulders! There may be long periods of space between updates as I have my exams. I apologise for the inconvenience. **


	19. Overdue decisions

**Authors Note**

**This chapter was up quicker than i expected. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters what-so-ever, so please don't sue. If you're still keen on suing me, then do it over the story that you think is the best. Leave me a little bit of ego as I go to prison.**

**Control Room**

**Cylon Base star**

"This was a terrible thing to happen." Number Six stated, looking at the other models in both sadness and anger. The Cavil model was absent, probably off watching the hybrid or walking the corridors, projecting himself.

"It was," agreed Doral, staring down at his hand. It was placed tenderly in the control panel, slowly giving directions to the ship, "but what can we do about it?"

"Cavil went against all of us," Six reminded all the models, "only D'anna has done such a thing before."

The models looked around at eachother warily. D'anna had refused to send all the heavy raiders back when they had all agreed on it. She had been boxed for wanting to know something she shouldn't, for defying the rest of them. Cavil had now done the same. _Is this how it's always going to be from now on? _wondered Six, glancing around, _disagreement, arguments, death?_

"Are you suggesting-" Simon started to ask, but was interrupted by Number Eight.

"Box Cavil?" She completed the sentence, looking at Six in disbelief. It was a rarity that such a thing was discussed. They used to agree on everything. Something had changed when Boomer had downloaded, her and Six had argued and conflict had grown, which had led to the settlement on New Caprica.

"As much as I hate to admit it, you have a point." Leoben stated from opposite her. His face was glowing from the reflection of the control panel, bringing out the wisdom, the curiosity in his eyes. His stare was intense, as if trying to determine whether Six was fully for it. She didn't back down, staring defiantly at him.

"We need to think about this," Simon announced. It was a big decision to make, and any repercussions could cause havoc.

"It should happen," Six explained desperately, trying to make the other models see her side of the argument. It was logical, "D'anna was boxed for going against us, for finding something out that she shouldn't have. Cavil defied our agreement, took our base star and jumped us completely away from the resurrection ship. Do you have any idea what could happen now?"

"If it's out of range then when we die," Doral informed the rest of them, "we die."

"No, think. Something worse than that." Leoben replied, his eyes alight with a new understanding.

"Number Three, D'anna," Sharon said suddenly, her hand coming up to her mouth in realisation, "she's out there right now. She knows of the Final Five. What if-"

"What if the humans get to her first?" Six finished, relieved that they had finally come to understand the predicament they were in.

They looked around at eachother uneasily, gauging eachothers reactions to the new revelation.

"I call the vote." Six announced, pulling herself up slightly to stand over the rest. She radiated confidence, covering the anxiety and worry she felt inside of her.

"A vote to box the Cavil model," Leoben carried on, his face slightly shadowed in the light, "the Two's agree."

"The Eights agree."

"The Sixes agree."

"The Fives agree."

"The Fours agree."

"It is unanimous," Six said, relieved at their faith in the cause. She had already started to plan the jump back to the resurrection ship in her mind as they were voting.

"How can it be unanimous," started a voice from behind them, "if one model hasn't voted yet?"

All the models turned around in surprise. Cavil was standing on the steps that led to the control room, a sickly smile playing on his face. Although shaded by his hat, his eyes glinted with malice and cunning.

"The vote has been passed." Leoben replied evenly. His body was still sore from the unexpected jump, having hit the floor at a remarkable speed.

"Can we just talk this through first?" Cavil asked innocently. It was a mask, however, and all the models could tell that he didn't want to. Six's hand edged precariously close to the control panel, her fingers lightly dancing on it, images travelling up her arm, etched onto her skin. The hybrid's scream could be heard from around the base star.

"What did you just do!?" roared Cavil, his eyes wide in anger and surprise.

"The vote has been passed." Six stated calmly, looking around the control room at all the other models. A loud thumping could be heard from behind Cavil and two centurions appeared, their guns raised resolutely.

"What the frak are-" Cavil started, but was interrupted.

"Execute command." Six ordered, her eyes steely and cold. The centurions raised their guns and fired at the model in front of them. After a few seconds, Cavil's body fell to the floor, riddled with bullets.

"He can't resurrect, can he?" Eight asked, glancing down at the body with unease.

"It depends on how far away we are from the resurrection ship," Doral replied. He didn't batter an eyelid when the centurions had opened fire, and just looked at the body with a calm disdain, "if we are close enough, then he can. What happens if that is true?"

Leoben smiled widely, his eyes glinting with amusement, "If that is true," he started slowly, gaining their attention, "then I'm sure D'anna can handle him."

**Main Chamber**

**Resurrection Ship**

Kara slowly pushed forwards through a corridor, her gun out and pointed in front of her. Her breathing was steady and slow as she made her way around the ship. There was no sign of any life aboard, but Kara was sure that she saw a shadow, her instincts told her to keep searching, and Kara Thrace always trusted her instincts. They had got her this far.

Taking a left, she stopped suddenly and the breath she was holding came out in a gasp. She was in a large chamber, the same one she saw from her Raptor outside. Tubs lined the floors, filled to the brim with an opaque gel.

"Frak," she murmured to herself, looking wide-eyed at the sight, "ok, ok. Keep calm. Take in the surroundings. First things first, take a look around."

Something felt strange about this place, as she moved slowly around. The gun point followed her vision, sweeping around the large room, locking sight on each individual tub. Her finger twitched against the trigger, as if her hand was keen to shoot something, anything.

Kara's gaze was caught by a shadowed corner at the far end of the room. The light from the walls seemed not to reach it. The darkness called her, slowly drawing her closer, and she could not fight it. It was if her legs had a mind of their own, carrying Kara forwards at a rapid rate.

A movement caused Kara to jump back slightly, and raise her gun in anticipation. Something in the dark corner was moving slightly, restlessly. Pointing her gun, her hand steady, Kara waited for whatever or whoever it was to either talk or attack. Instantly she prepared herself for the worst, her finger gently caressing the trigger, knowing that no matter what, there would be a shot fired from this gun, and she hoped to the Gods that it was that thing in the corner that was going to die by it.

"You can put away that gun, you know." A voice carried through the darkness. There was a hint of an accent to it, and Kara felt the voice was familiar somehow. Slowly, footsteps echoed, heels clicking on the hard floor. A woman appeared from the darkness, her suit bright white against the shrouding black.

"We meet again Kara Thrace," D'anna stated casually, a smirk playing on her lips. She knew that Kara was not a threat to her and so completely ignored the gun that was aiming at her, "but I must say, I preferred your hair long like on New Caprica."

"Its amazing what time can do," Kara forced a smile, her aim still steadily on the woman in front, "hair becomes longer, we age, we die. Too bad the same can't be said about you."

"I see you have some anger, and the gun pointing at me is very intimidating. Would you mind?" She indicated to Kara to lower her weapon, but she ignored her.

"Oh no, not this frakking time," Kara said through gritted teeth, her eyes narrowed in concentration, "I have a chance to kill a cylon for good. I'm gonna take it."

"You could do that," D'anna agreed, a smile still on her lips. She decided to play all of her cards, "but then no-one will know who the final five are."

The statement caused Kara to pause, her breath sucked in quickly. This model may have knowledge of the final five, but maybe she was bluffing? Kara had no way of knowing for sure. It could be a trick, to force Kara to let her live. She was not going to fall for it though. She had spent months playing house with Leoben, who made her believe she had a child. She was not going to let some cylon frak with her head again.

"Supposing I don't believe you," She clicked the safety off, her finger flexing over the trigger, "what would you say to make me change my mind?"

"They're close. You can feel it too Kara Thrace. You will help the dying leader bring us to earth. Two of the final five will-"

"-Yeah, yeah," Kara interrupted, "I've heard the passage ok? Two will try and protect, Two will try and destroy, one will decide."

"And that one will be the first to step foot on Earth." D'anna completed, her eyes glinting with amusement at Kara's surprise.

"It'll be a cold day in hell when a frakking cylon sets foot on the earth before us." Kara informed her angrily, her finger tightening around the trigger.

"You will not kill me, I know who they are. Whether you like it or not, Cylons and humans will both set foot on Earth. It is written. Without me, you cannot know who your enemies are."

"I'll take my chances," Kara whispered, gaining an accurate shot, "Want to know if there is a toaster hell?"

"Wait!" D'anna ordered her, hands coming up to stop her following through with her actions, "before you kill me, let me do something first."

"What's that?" Kara asked warily, her gun sight faltering slightly.

"A cylon is resurrecting as we speak. I want to talk to him." D'anna replied, her head turning slightly to the tub to her right. The opaque gel was moving sluggishly, sweeping in a clockwise fashion around the tub. Lights were becoming brighter, and Kara shaded her eyes with a hand, before asking;

"Leoben?"

"No," D'anna whispered, her smile growing bigger, "Cavil. It's about time we talked actually. It's been too long."

**A/N**

**Thankyou for reading. Next chapter should be up sometime this week. Hopefully at the beginning of the week! Reviews are more than welcome!**


	20. Proposed Alliances

**Authors Note**

**Sorry for the delay people! Exams suck. Pretty much a free week though coming up except for one exam so I'll hopefully have plenty of time to update! Chapter 20 up, hope you like it!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters what-so-ever, so please don't sue. If you're still keen on suing me, then do it over the story that you think is the best. Leave me a little bit of ego as I go to prison.**

**Main Chamber**

**Resurrection Ship**

Cavil gasped, his eyes wide with shock and pain. This wasn't the first time he had resurrected, and the more often it happened, the more painful it got. Currently, he felt as if he was attached to some sort of electrical circuit, agony ripping through his muscles and veins. _I shouldn't try and get myself killed so often, _he thought to himself bitterly.

Trying desperately to stay afloat in the gel oozing around him, Cavil closed his eyes, waiting for the previous memories to be downloaded into his new body. Flashes of images played themselves beneath his eyelids; _talking to a man named Tyrol, being shot on New Caprica, escaping, jumping away from the resurrection ship, being shot by a centurion-_

The last thought brought new pain sailing through him, this time in the form of white hot fury. They had turned on him, had decided his own death warrant and had him killed. _Surely not though,_ he wondered, looking around him, _because I am still alive. They couldn't have meant to kill me for good. _

_But we jumped away from the resurrection ship, _a voice informed him in his subconscious, _obviously not far enough away, but they couldn't have known that surely. When they set out to shoot you, they had meant to kill you, for good. _

Cavil shook the thoughts away, his demeanour calming. He was alive, he should be grateful. Slowly, his hands moved out of the liquid surrounding him and placed themselves sturdily on the sides of the tub. He intended to get out of there as soon as possible. Suddenly, a hand gripped his own, slipping slightly over his soaked skin.

"Brother Cavil," A voice, amused in tone, greeted him, "how nice of you to join me."

Turning slowly and narrowing his eyes to focus, Cavil found himself staring into the eyes of a number three model. Her white suit radiated from the darkness where she previously stood, watching his every thought play across his face. She was going to enjoy this.

"D'anna," Cavil greeted her calmly, a small smile playing across his lips, "we should really pick better meeting spots." He was hopeful, maybe D'anna would help him find the other models again.

D'anna, however, wasn't going to help him anytime soon. Taking a seat by the tub, one hand covering his, she let her other hand draw lazy circles in the gel, much like he had done when she was the one in the tub.

"Tell me Cavil," she started, the lilt of her accent making the words come out clear and precise, "has God foretold of this?"

Cavil kept his gaze fixated on her eyes, which were now shadowed. He could make out traces of regret, but also a strong sense of retribution. He wasn't going to be getting out of here anytime soon, and he knew it. Deciding not to answer her question, he spoke softly;

"I don't regret what I did, D'anna. You knew too much, and God did not want us to know the faces of the Final Five."

"But surely He must have done? We must find Earth, Cavil, and as foretold, the 5th will step foot on the planet first, marking it the home of everyone, Cylons and Humans alike."

"What you did was unacceptable. You put us all at risk!"

"The Final Five control our future Cavil. To not look upon their faces is sin." With that, D'anna pulled her hand abruptly out of the tub. Cavil's eyes pleaded, for her to see some sense, for her to let him live, for her to stop her ongoing obsession with the final five. D'anna looked at him with cold disdain and moved to the tubes and wires beside the tub.

"As we speak D'anna, my other models are getting together. You started this civil war, and you have no hope of winning. They will be upon you soon. Cylons will have earth, even if it's only the Cavils, and we won't let anyone stand in our way, human or Cylon."

"I have always wanted to do this." D'anna informed him, a smile forming. Her eyes glittered with anticipation as she pulled a tube out slowly. The pain was excruciating and Cavil started to thrash, his eyes scrunched up in pain. She was enjoying watching him suffer at the hands of herself. Revenge was a sweet thing. Suddenly, the lights slowly flickered off in the tub, and Cavil floated in the gel, his head lolled back, a look of shock and pain on his face.

"Goodbye Brother Cavil." D'anna whispered, placing a soft kiss on the models forehead. The moment was interrupted when a gun clicked behind her. She didn't turn her head, knowing exactly where the gun was pointing on her. If she turned around now, a bullet would be placed right between her eyes.

"Is what he said true?" Kara whispered, her gun slightly shaking in her now sweaty hands. She had listened to the whole interaction, waiting in the darkness with baited breath.

"What part?" D'anna asked calmly, her gaze still fixated on the tub in front.

"Don't frak with me!" Kara screamed, pushing the gun into the back of her head in emphasis of the danger the model now faced, "about his other models. Are they forming a resistance!?"

D'anna closed her eyes, a look of tranquillity passing over her face.

"Yes it's true," she said, her expression serious, "there are enough of them. If they execute the other models, and take over the baseships, we have no chance."

"They'll get to earth … and destroy everyone who gets in their way?" Kara asked quietly, her gun aim dropping slightly and her finger loosening off the trigger.

"Yes," D'anna agreed, "Cylon or human. No-one will live through this fighting alone."

"You frakkers can die for all I care," Kara growled, although the anger was gone, replaced with fatigue and realisation. She dropped her arm to her side, the gun pointing aimlessly at the floor, "but I can't have the human race dying."

D'anna slowly got up, so as not to make any sudden movements and alert the pilot behind her. Moving cautiously, she stood in front of Kara and placed her hand on her shoulder.

"You are the salvation Kara," She told her, "God wanted you to see Earth. You will save us all, Cylon and Human, and help guide us to Earth. It was foretold. You and the dying leader unite to guide both Man and Machine. Our creation, Hera, will set foot on Earth and lead the way for both races."

"What have the Final Five got to do with this?" Kara asked cautiously. She was out of her mind to trust this _object_ in front of her, but found herself compelled to listen. She somehow knew that what this Cylon was saying was the truth.

"We must get to them fast. The hybrid child's life hangs in the balance. If a certain path is followed then we all will die at the hands of eachother and-"

D'anna stopped abruptly, her head sharply turning to the window nearby. Kara looked confused, wondering what the Cylon was staring at. Her gaze seemed drawn to the space outside, her eyes quickly darting from side to side. Suddenly, a knowing smirk appeared on her face. She turned back towards Kara, informing her;

"Help is arriving."

Kara seemed to jump back into action, her gun raised defiantly at D'anna's head. Her hand was now steady and a cold anger gleamed in her eyes. Starbuck was taking over.

"If they try and kill me then Gods help me I will take this ship down and as many of you frakkers as I can get." Her tone was assured, strong, but her heart raced in anxiety. It was the adrenalin pumping through her veins, the anticipation of a battle.

"They won't kill you," D'anna whispered calmly, staring out of the window, "We need your help, to stop the Cavils, and we know you need ours. Alone, we will succumb to the darkness, but together, we can reach Earth, alive."

"Do you have any idea what you are frakking suggesting!?" Kara screamed, her teeth gritted in annoyance at the Cylon's tranquillity.

"An alliance," D'anna informed her simply, "We get to Earth together, or die at the hands of the Cavils."

Kara tore her eyes away from the woman in front of her as something flashed in the cold confines of space. A baseship suddenly appeared above them, looming over the ship.

"It's going to take a hard time convincing the rest of the human race," Kara stated, watching in awe as the massive ship glided by the window, glowing purple, "they're not that happy with you."

"We're not the enemy, not anymore. They'll see that. Hopefully not too late, as the Cavil's are moving fast. They could be on us soon."

"So say we all." Kara whispered, staring at the baseship outside. This was turning out to be one frakked up journey. She silently wondered how the fleet would take their sudden arrival, and cringed at the thought of the Admiral's reaction to the notion of working _with _the Cylons. This was only going to get more difficult.

**Dualla's Quarters**

**Battlestar Galactica**

"Dee?" Cally called out from behind the closed door to the head.

Dualla made her way across the room, and waited patiently as Cally entered the room and stopped just before her, sweeping down her uniform. Grease covered it, but she had no time to find a fresh pair of overalls or get them cleaned. They'd only get dirty again anyway, she knew.

"Yeah Cally?" Dee replied, looking expectantly at the young woman.

"I've got to go on shift. Are you expected in CIC?"

"Not for another several hours," Dee informed her, smiling slightly. Cally looked so vulnerable and small in her dirtied uniform, "why?"

"Can you look after Nicky for me please? I think he's spent too much time with Daycare. I dread dropping him off there."

"Sure thing, Cally," Dee replied immediately. She loved looking after children. They were a breath of fresh air from the people she usually had to deal with, "we'll see you when you come back."

"Thanks," Cally said, her smile brightening. She placed a small kiss on Nicky's forehead, while he was asleep in the crib, and left the room, pulling the hatch shut quietly behind her.

Dee moved over to check Nicky, her voice soft as she spoke;

"Look's like it's just us two for now Nicky. Your mummy will be back soon."

**A/N**

**Ok, hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing it! Reviews are welcome. Next Chapter up very soon.**


	21. Starbuck's Return

**Authors Note**

**Chapter 21, hope you're all keeping with this. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters what-so-ever, so please don't sue. If you're still keen on suing me, then do it over the story that you think is the best. Leave me a little bit of ego as I go to prison.**

**CIC**

**Battlestar Galactica**

Admiral Adama stared blankly at the Dradis screen in front of him. The minutes slowly ticked by, the room around him buzzing with amiable chatter. There was no sign of any contact and the crew within CIC were whispering, either getting gossip or discussing more serious aspects, such as the latest fuel leak on a civilian ship. Adama didn't mind their chatter in the least. They had been on shift now for fifteen hours straight, and they deserved to have a little time to socialise in amongst doing their work.

"Quiet today," Tigh informed him, his good eye fixated on the Dradis. Adama looked over in surprise at his sudden statement. He nodded slowly in agreement with his XO and turned his gaze back towards the controls, "not a single bit of rock out of place out there."

"Yeah," Adama agreed, his voice quiet and hoarse. He hadn't talked in hours, just staring blankly, thinking. Tigh could tell by the look on his face that Bill's thoughts were not within the walls of CIC, but didn't dare ask the Admiral where they were. He did, however, comment casually every so often to help keep his friend's head in the game, "it's calm."

"What's on your mind Bill?" Tigh asked quietly. The man had been watching the Dradis with such intensity for too long, and Saul knew that whatever he was thinking about, it was serious. Nothing else would come between Adama and CIC issues.

The chattering around them hadn't stopped, but Adama still felt the need to move around the console, closer to Saul.

"It's too quiet." He stated simply, his blue eyes fixated on Tigh. His XO didn't seem to quite grasp what the Admiral was trying to say, and nodded for him to elaborate.

"As much as I like the calm, the relaxation, I can't help but feel that something is going to happen."

"It's just your military instincts," Tigh assured him, smiling, "they drilled it into us in training on Caprica. Assume the worst, you know?"

"It's not that, not this time," Adama whispered, looking at the table in front of him. He gently placed his fingers down on the glass, which was cool against his hand. He then looked up suddenly, "It's like something is out of place. I don't know what. Something is different."

Tigh's expression grew serious, and Adama raised his eyebrow questioningly. His XO was acting peculiar lately. He was either thunderous and storming around, or anxious and worried. As temperamental as Tigh was, Adama knew that these emotions had only came about with such force in recent weeks.

Saul closed his good eye, an inner battle being waged in his mind. Adama could sense something, something different …._you, _one voice stated with contempt, _he can sense your metal ass, he knows what you are. Tell him now, before he throws you in the brig, explain to him, while you still have the chance. _

_Don't tell him, _another voice interrupted,_ he doesn't know. He is talking about the Dradis. There is no reason for him to find out yet. Not while Kara is gone, not while Lee is over on another ship, not while Roslin is going through treatment for cancer. Don't do this to him, you're his best friend-_

_-and best friends should be honest with eachother. He'd want to know. _Tigh growled in frustration. What was he going to do? He could come clean right now, tell Adama that he was a Cylon and face either the airlock or a long stay in the brig. He'd have been open and honest and would suffer for it. He could just as easily not tell his best friend, but he knew that if Bill was ever to find out, it would be so much worse. He seemed to have come to a conclusion, turning towards the concerned Admiral.

"Bill, I need to tell you something." His voice was steady, not giving away the pure panic that was wrestling with his insides.

"What is it Saul?" The look on Adama's face was that of genuine concern. Tigh seemed to be struggling with his words, and Bill was confused as to what he could possibly tell him. They had been friends for decades. They knew eachother too well for his XO to be harbouring some serious secret.

"Bill, I'm a-"

"Dradis contact!" Gaeta shouted suddenly, his face panicked. The crew and the senior command had been too wrapped up in their conversations to notice an enemy ship jump in.

Adama seemed to change, the Admiral mask presiding over his previous personal one.

"Sitrep!" He shouted, furious with himself for getting too lax, "now Lt Gaeta!"

"Counting one basestar and one resurrection ship sir!" Gaeta informed him, his chair spinning dangerously as he tried to both keep an eye on the Dradis and talk to the Admiral at the same time.

"Set condition one throughout the ship, and tell the fleet to spool up FTL drives!" Adama replied loudly, his hands gripping the console in front of him. His knuckles turned white. How could something like that slip past Dradis? How did they find them?

"This is the XO, set condition one throughout the ship. I repeat, set condition one throughout the ship." Tigh spoke into the comm. set, his eyes never leaving the Dradis, that now flashed red as large dots appeared on screen. The beeping sound grew erratic, as the dot drew closer.

"They're practically right on top of us," Tigh murmured, "why aren't they opening fire?"

"I don't know," Adama replied slowly, "but I'm not going to give them a chance as we wonder why. Launch emergency fighters!"

Before Tigh could press the button and inform the emergency viper pilots to get to the tubes, however, Gaeta spoke up from behind him;

"We're picking up Colonial signals sir!"

The CIC went silent at his statement. Gaeta himself looked shocked and confused as numbers and letters scrolled rapidly up his screen.

"They're using our own signals against us now!?" Tigh roared, looking around accusingly at the rest of the crew, "how the frak is that possible!?"

"I don't know," Adama muttered absently, his eyes burning a hole in the Dradis in front. Something then suddenly clicked in his head.

"Confirm them!" He bellowed, abruptly moving around the table to stand over by Gaeta. Tigh's mouth opened for a second, but no words came out. What the hell was Adama playing at?

Putting down the comm. unit, Tigh turned around to face the Admiral.

"What the frak is going on Bill? What do you know?"

"Nothing," Adama murmured, "it's a hunch."

"Colonial Signals confirmed. They're valid. Sir?" Gaeta held his ear piece, concentrating for a second, "The baseship is requesting us to open line of communication."

"Grant it," Adama commanded, and moved back over to the table. He picked up the small comm. unit, and nodded for Tigh to do the same with his. The line was static for a few moments before a familiar voice rung out in their ears.

"Galactica, this is Starbuck. Admiral? You there?"

"How do I know this is Starbuck?" Adama asked calmly. His face remained impassive, but his eyes glowed with relief and excitement. She was back, Kara was back.

The voice on the other end was filled with amusement, "Ask me anything Admiral, ask me anything."

"What d'ya hear Starbuck?" He asked, his breath held in anticipation of the answer. There was quiet for a moment, before Kara's voice came through again;

"Nothing but the rain sir." She stated, and this was followed by a laugh. She was happy to be home.

"Then grab your gun and bring in the cat." Adama responded, "It's good to hear your voice Kara."

"Couldn't leave you Admiral, must be your animal magnetism."

Adama let out a bark of laughter, before his expression once again turned serious.

"What the hell happened Starbuck?"

"That's gonna take a lot of explaining sir," Kara replied, "I'd like to meet with the President."

"I'll see what I can do Starbuck," The Admiral said, placing down the receiver. He looked once at Tigh, who was staring dumbstruck over at him. In reply, Bill nodded, assuring him that it was indeed Starbuck on the line, sitting in that basestar above them.

"Lt Gaeta." Adama abruptly called out. Gaeta turned around, looking confused.

"Yes sir?"

"I need a secure line to my own Quarters."

**Admiral Adama's Quarters**

**Battlestar Galactica**

Laura Roslin regarded the files in front of her with a sigh. Stifling a yawn, she placed her pen down and stretched her arms in front of her. It had been a long day. Her diloxin treatments were drawing to a close and she felt her previous energy starting to return. However, energy was one thing that would not help her with the reports that now surrounded her. Having a sick day was one thing, but for the President of the Twelve Colonies it was something else.

Laura took a long swig from a glass of water nearby. Adama's quarters were practically hers aswell now, and she felt comfortable enough to get her own drinks, use his desk and sleep on the sofa.

As she moved to pick her pen back up, the phone nearby started to ring. Laura slowly got up, placing her glasses on the table in front of her and walked towards the phone. Someone obviously needed to speak to the Admiral. She wondered briefly what people would think if she answered the phone in Adama's quarters, but shook the thought away quickly. It might be an important call, forget the gossip. Resolutely, she picked the phone up and brought it to her ear.

"Laura Roslin."

"Laura?" Bill's voice crackled down the line. Warmth radiated over her when she heard his voice and she found the stress of working leave her immediately.

"Bill," she responded in kind, a smile on her face, "what's wrong?"

"We have a situation."

The smile left her face, replaced with a frown. She gripped the phone tighter.

"A situation?"

"A basestar has just jumped in and given Colonial signals. It's Starbuck," Bill hurriedly explained, "She's on the baseship and she's requesting a meeting with you." The last part of the sentence was said in a tone that Laura recognised.

"And you don't want me to go." She stated wryly, her eyes glittering with curiosity. It was too much. Starbuck coming back in a baseship and requesting _her _of all people.

"There could be Cylons aboard." Adama stated.

"Yes there could. But Kara Thrace is also aboard and is the one requesting me. The question is, Bill, do you trust her enough?"

There was silence on the other end of the line and Laura thought for a split second that she had offended him, made him angry. Suddenly, however, his voice echoed in his ear, reassuring and warm;

"Yes, yes I do. A raptor will be prepared for you shortly."

"Thankyou Bill. We'll talk later." With that, she hung up the phone and walked back to the desk. Picking up her suit jacket from the back of the chair and her glasses from the table top, Laura exited the quarters with confidence.

**A/N**

**All grammatical errors are mine. Hope you've enjoyed the chapter and are managing to keep with this story. **


	22. Hybrid Theory

**Authors Note**

**Chapter 22, look at me go! I had this kind of planned before the recent season 4 episodes, so any similarities truly are coincidental. If the phrase "Great Minds Think Alike" is to be trusted, then they must have some real stupid people working on BSG, if they have the same ideas as me!**

**My thanks to Kelly who checked over this chapter. She corrected mistakes and made it flow better I think, so thank you.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters what so ever, so please don't sue. If you're still keen on suing me, then do it over the story that you think is the best. Leave me a little bit of ego as I go to prison.**

**Hangar Area**

**Cylon Basestar**

"Madam President, it's good to have you aboard."

Laura Roslin stepped off the Raptor, taking a fleeting look at her surroundings as she did. It was completely different to the Colonial ships she was used to. It looked so … _organic. _The walls were covered in thick running tubes, like long veins. For a moment, Roslin wondered whether the ship itself was a creature, much like the Raiders appeared to be. Was she currently inside a living Cylon being?

A hand shot out from her right, offering her support as she moved to lower herself to the ground. She gripped it gratefully, without looking, and stepped onto the surface beneath her. It was surprisingly hard. She had half expected it to swallow her shoes the moment she made contact.

"Thank you-" She turned towards who had helped her and found her sentence come to a stop. She was looking into the deep searching eyes of Leoben. He was amused at her gratitude, and his smile was genuine. If there was one thing Laura learnt from being President, it was how to recover herself well, "Leoben."

"You're welcome Laura Roslin. It seems too long since we last talked. I think I remember a ship and … ahhh that's right … an airlock." His smile grew even wider as Laura faltered slightly.

"I hope there are no hard feelings about that, but at the time I did see you as a threat to the fleet."

"No harm done. I hope you still don't see me as such a threat?" His question was layered, and Laura responded with a presidential smile.

"We'll have to see about that, won't we? Now, would you kindly lead me to Kara Thrace?"

"Of course. Right this way."

He led Laura out through a side door and into the main corridors. They were confusing and as she tried to remember her way, they passed through another door, down another corridor, past another Cylon model. She soon gave up, deciding just to follow Leoben and let him also guide her back when they were through.

"These corridors all look the same. How do you know where you are going?"

"Projection." Leoben answered calmly, not taking his eyes off of the corridor ahead, "We see what we want to see."

Laura just nodded politely. She had no idea what projection was, and she knew that if it were explained to her, she still wouldn't have a clue. She decided it was best if she kept quiet.

Suddenly, Leoben stopped and turned around. They were standing outside a doorway. Inside, Laura could make out a glowing in the centre of the floor, but it was too dark to pick out any details.

"In here," Leoben explained to her, "is the Hybrid. They-"

"-control the ship, yes I know." Laura completed his sentence, smiling.

"They say that Hybrids speak nonsense but truly they speak the word of God. To know God is to know madness. The Hybrids know everything about this world and the next, but they have been driven to madness. No one can understand what they say. Kara has chosen to meet you here."

His statement was met with silence as Roslin regarded the man in front of her. He seemed to be reverent in his belief in the Hybrids. He truly believed what he was preaching, and she felt respect grow for him. Maybe they weren't so different after all.

"By all means, lead the way." She indicated for him to move into the room first, which he did, stopping to allow her to move past.

**Central Computer**

**Cylon Basestar**

Kara was crouched down, staring with intensity at the Hybrid in front of her. It didn't acknowledge her, instead choosing to whisper random phrases and sentences to the surroundings. Slowly moving to get up, Kara noticed that Leoben entered, stopping to let President Roslin go ahead of him. She did so with caution, glancing around the room.

When she spotted Kara standing, Laura smiled and moved more confidently towards the centre of the room.

"Lieutenant Thrace," she said, warmth in her voice, "It's good to see you again. The fleet has not been the same without you. We were so used to you saving our collective asses."

"Madam President," Kara smiled and saluted. Laura just shook her head and pulled the younger woman into a hug. Kara was unused to such contact, by the President no less, and stiffened slightly. However, Roslin refused to let go and Kara felt her own arms loop around her and return the hug. Tears came to her eyes. She had never been hugged like that before, and the thoughts of Laura like a mother figure to her and the rest of the fleet came into her head. It felt good to be hugged.

Moving out of the embrace, Laura noticed the unshed tears in Kara's eyes and smiled. She didn't bring attention to it, knowing that Kara hated to be seen as weak. Instead, she turned towards the Hybrid, giving the young pilot a chance to collect her emotions.

"Half is equal distance to less than five times the same amount. When he set the time to count, he didn't set it to stop. Moments pass in seconds, each fork in the road is different. Increase Nitrogen levels by 0.07. Depressurising to the count of five, two, two, seven, five. Thank you. Thank you."

The Hybrid was talking, not paying attention to the others in the room. Laura regarded the woman in the tub with mild curiosity. She couldn't understand a single phrase that it was saying.

"That's all it does." Kara stated, motioning towards the Hybrid. Laura just smiled and nodded, continuing to listen. After a while, she turned towards Kara, her expression serious.

"How many Cylons are there aboard this ship?"

"Twenty five, Madam President."

"How many can you take out?"

Her question caused Kara to pause, her mouth open in surprise. She wasn't seriously suggesting…

"None, Madam President."

Laura looked towards her, surprised for a second, before answering the younger woman.

"Kara?"

"They're here to help. One model, the Cavil line, has started a Civil War. They've taken over ships. These other models want to find Earth as much as we do. They want to live in peace and harmony. Without them, Madam President, we won't live to see it."

Before Laura could respond, The Hybrid behind them gasped suddenly. Quickly, Kara and Laura moved to its side as it started to babble more coherently.

"The Third knows of the fifth. The four call, but who will the fifth choose? Tears and rain collide now. He knows not of their true natures, but they will be revealed. Increase oxygen by 0.02. The opera house draws nearer. They will know now what it means."

Suddenly, the Hybrid gasped again and its hand flew out of the tub, gripping Roslin's ankle. She could only watch in curiosity as the Hybrid turned its head and stared straight at her. Looking down at its blank stare, Laura could see emotions playing across its face. Both pain and pleasure passed across its features, and suddenly its eyes darkened.

"It begins." The hybrid stated, and pushed its hand away from the President, placing it back in the tub.

Laura turned towards Kara, shaken. Kara's face had lost all colour, her eyes staring fearfully down at the Hybrid. It had never given such a direct sentence, she could tell, as Leoben also looked slightly anxious.

"It begins," he repeated to himself, "It begins. The final five were mentioned and a Three. It begins…"

"Hera!" Roslin suddenly shouted, clutching at the collar of her blouse in worry. Suddenly, the room was hot, too hot for her. Something triggered in her mind and the Opera House appeared.

_Laura looked around, peering over the familiar balcony. Sharon was on the other side screaming, her hands entangled in her hair and tears streaming down her face. It seemed that Laura was watching from a distance, unable to feel any emotions towards the scene before her. An aura of calm surrounded the hall, evaporating all sense of urgency and danger. _

_Below, the five white figures moved slowly towards a small girl, who was sitting and crying in the corner. She seemed to want to get out the large double doors, but no one offered to open them for her. So she sat, crying, a chilling scream echoing around the building. _

_Looking back across, Laura noticed that Sharon was fading slowly, her eyes rolling back into her head. Her face as it slowly dissolved showed pure agony, ripping her apart. As suddenly as it started, it had ended. Sharon was gone. Just a blurred outline remained, before that too evaporated. Roslin didn't know what was happening, but felt compelled to keep watching. _

_She looked back down and noticed that three of the figures were surrounding Hera now, who looked scared. One figure pushed their way to the other side of the room, where there was a bundle waiting. It leaned down and moved out of view. Looking back at the three figures she could see, Laura noticed that the big double doors that Hera had waited for to open, were shaking slightly. Someone was banging on the other side, screaming the child's name. Laura recognised, as the door opened with a bang, that it was Caprica Six. She looked stricken, searching the room for the small girl. Just as she spotter her however, she started to disintegrate. It started at her hands, as she looked at them in horror. Soon her arms started to fade also, travelling down her limbs and through to her feet. _

"_Hera!" she was screaming, slowly fading from view. Laura didn't know what was happening, staring at the spot where Caprica Six had once stood. Something wasn't right. Gaius Baltar too stepped through the doors. He, however, did not disintegrate and he hurried along to the other side of the hall, where the white figure before had disappeared from view with a bundle. _

_Laura was on her own now, with Hera and the three white figures. One of them seemed to glow slightly more than the other two. Looking upon the scene, Laura noticed that the two who glowed less seemed to set themselves apart from the other one, as if wary of what was going to happen. Hera tried to move towards the two, but found herself pulled back by the first one. Laura could see the struggle going on and decided now was the time to intervene. She moved her hand up to signal her presence, but found herself looking at it in interest. It was fading, just as Sharon and Caprica Six did. However, Laura felt no pain, no sense of loss, just a strange dull ache as the fading spread throughout her body …_

"Madam President!"

Kara was holding Roslin steady, as she was shaking and swaying dangerously. She seemed not to hear Kara, however, her gaze focused on the Hybrid in front of her, who too was screaming. The noise pierced the air around them and rang out across the ship. Kara winced, but had no free hands to cover her ears, as she was busy holding the President up. Leoben was on his knees, eyes scrunched up and hands on his head. A dull ache throbbed through Kara's head, but her concentration was on what was now coming out of Laura's mouth. She seemed to be talking. Kara tuned in on the last part of the sentence.

"-We need a raptor out of here! It's starting. They want Hera, I must protect Hera!"

**A/N**

**Well hope you've enjoyed chapter 22. Not sure how many chapters to go, but the end is inevitably drawing closer …**


	23. Pieces are coming together

**Authors Note**

**Chapter 23 for you all. Hope you're enjoying this. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters what-so-ever, so please don't sue. If you're still keen on suing me, then do it over the story that you think is the best. Leave me a little bit of ego as I go to prison.**

**CIC**

**Battlestar Galactica**

_There must be some way out of here,_

_Said the joker to the thief._

"Frakking song," Tigh muttered to himself, rubbing his brow wearily. They had been on alert for hours now, ever since the Cylon Basestar had jumped in. Adama seemed more aggravated then usual, constantly checking Dradis, his cobalt gaze fixed on the dot that represented where the President now was. Tigh knew better than to make an educated remark about his sudden interest in Roslin's whereabouts. It was none of his business, and he didn't want to make it his anyway, as some things were best left unsaid.

"Colonel!" Adama ordered, his eyes tearing themselves reluctantly away from the screen. Tigh straightened imperceptibly, his shoulders square and his jaw held high in the air.

"Sir." He replied, his own eye fixed steadily just above the Admiral's right shoulder.

"You look like hell Saul," Adama spoke softly; his tone was one of understanding. _You don't understand a frakking thing, _he thought bitterly at the man in front, his best friend, _you can't begin to know what is going on in this frakked up mind, _"You need to rest."

"I'm fine." Tigh said evenly, his teeth gritted in frustration. He wasn't fine, he knew that and apparently even Adama knew it now. Casting a quick glance about the room, he noted that almost every crew member had their eyes on him, some subtly done so from behind their computers, others making it obvious, curiosity in their gazes.

"You're not kidding anyone Saul," Adama replied curtly, his eyes now hardening from behind his glasses, "now go get some R & R. I'm advising it as a friend, don't make me order it as your superior."

A smile graced Saul's lips, but disappeared as rapidly as it came, leaving a frown placed fixedly on his face. Saluting, Tigh turned to walk out of the room. There was no "thanks", but Adama didn't expect one as he watched Tigh move towards the hatch, holding himself stiffly and as professional as he could maintain. This sudden appearance of Starbuck and the Cylons were taking a massive toll on the crew. They were reluctant to put any trust or credibility in the machines that effectively wiped out most of their race, demolishing their homes and prior lives.

Adama could understand their wariness, in fact he encouraged it. He'd rather no trust then blind trust, especially when it was aimed at their enemies. He couldn't for the life of him figure out why he had let Roslin go onto the Basestar. It wasn't safe, he knew that and she knew it also. Before she had left, Laura had placed a light kiss on his cheek, a silent promise that she would return. Laura Roslin always kept her promises, so why then did he feel so tense? Something was wrong. It felt just like it had before, when a Cylon Ship had graced them with it's presence. This time though, there was something more. When Roslin has stepped on that Raptor, he had a striking feeling that he wasn't going to see her again. It was fleeting, disappearing as soon as it had came, and so it made no sense for him to say anything to her about it before she left. With her now gone though, Adama wished that he had said something, _anything _to her asides from his reply of "see you soon Laura".

Snapping out of his thoughts and taking his eyes off of the hatch that Tigh had exited through, Adama once again focused on the Dradis Console. A small dot appeared, travelling fast from the Basestar to the Galactica. As if on cue, a young Ensign piped up from behind him;

"Sir? The Cylon Basestar is requesting a secure line to Actual."

"Grant it." Adama confirmed, picking up the comm unit in front of him with confidence, a confidence that he was not feeling. What did they want? Were they going to tell him that Kara Thrace was dead? That Laura Roslin was dead? That they were taking them hostage? With trepidation, he placed the receiver to his ear.

"Galactica Actual. Go ahead."

"Admiral Adama, is that you?" The rich, accented voice of a D'anna model greeted his ears, and he felt himself tense immediately.

"It is. What do you want?"

"Always one to cut to the chase, I liked that about you, when I was filming on the Galactica. Unfortunately you never had time for me to interview you."

"I'm making time now. What do you want?"

"You may have noticed a Raptor making it's way towards you."

Adama stilled for a moment, taking in the information. A multitude of thoughts ran through his head, all of them focused on whatever was in the raptor. Had they planted a bomb? Another Cylon virus? Was it a small army of centurions? Adama smiled slightly and shook his head. So many questions, and yet he never stopped to listen to the answer. Focusing his attention back on the receiver he continued nonchalantly;

"Confirmed. What's on the raptor?"

"Your President and Kara Thrace." D'anna replied easily, amusement evident in her voice at his slight pause and sharp intake of breath at the names she mentioned.

"I shall have a team meet them at the Hangar Bay."

"You do that Admiral. I have one question though. Is Saul Tigh present?"

Adama looked around to make sure whether Colonel Tigh was in fact present. He knew that sometimes, when he had sent him away, he secretly re-entered when Adama was not paying attention. It happened often when they had just started their run from the Cylons, when there was only 33 minutes rest before the next jump. Adama knew that he did it, but let him off. After making sure that Tigh had indeed left the CIC for good, he turned back to the receiver.

"I've just relieved him of duty. Why do you ask?"

A collective sigh was heard from the Cylon end, followed by a silence. Why the hell had Tigh come up in conversation?

"D'anna." He barked into the comm. unit, his patience wearing very thin.

"Colonel Tigh isn't there," she murmured in reply, her voice holding traces of hushed awe and reverence, "it has begun."

"What had begun?" He asked, but received no reply. He placed the comm unit down with force, his anger radiating through. So many unanswered questions, and yet the same kept running through his mind; _what the frak has Saul got to do with all of this?_

**Hangar Bay 1#**

**Battlestar Galactica**

Gaius Baltar stepped off of his raptor with uncertainty. It had been a while since he had last set foot aboard the Galactica (ever since his impromptu interrogation of Gaeta) and, if time were not factor, he'd have liked nothing more than to walk the corridors again, reliving the memories of long before New Caprica. However-

"Time _is _a factor Gaius. Hurry!" Caprica Six whispered urgently in his ear, nudging him along in the direction of the hatch that led to the corridors.

"As great as this sudden sense of urgency is," he whispered back furiously so as not to draw attention to the fact he was talking to an invisible being, "I'd love to know just where I'm meant to be going and-"

"Gaius Baltar."

Baltar turned in surprise, feeling Caprica Six disappear from behind him. His curious gaze was drowned in the emerald green eyes that radiated contempt and dislike. Laura Roslin's face was contorted in a gesture of disgust, as if his name rolling off of her tongue tasted worse than the algae and chemo treatments she was forced to endure.

"Madam President," he greeted her shakily, not knowing what to say in this situation. She smiled neutrally, a smile that told him she was waiting for the guards, or for the nearest airlock to become available. When a sudden entourage appeared from the far side of the Hangar Bay, Baltar felt momentary relief swell up inside. Not the airlock at least …

"Madam President," the marine at the front greeted her, saluting, "Orders of Admiral Adama to greet you off of the raptor and escort you to CIC immediately."

Laura Roslin looked slightly flustered at the sudden greeting and order, opening her mouth quickly to respond, when-

"She's with me. I'm her personal guard and I'm taking her where _she _wants to go. Now go." Starbuck announced, stepping down from the raptor with practiced ease. The marines looked uncertainly towards Roslin for confirmation. Any previous sign of discomfort was covered effectively by her smile, and she responded with a nod. The guards saluted and walked slowly back towards the hatch, taking their posts outside of the door.

Roslin and Starbuck both glanced briefly at eachother, smiling in acknowledgement and gratitude, before the President's attention was once again drawn to Gaius Baltar. He winced at her sharp piercing gaze and waited expectantly for her to call the marines back and have him escorted to the Brig. Instead, she remained silent, regarding him for long moments. She seemed to be sizing him up, Baltar realised, and waited anxiously for her verdict.

Whereas Starbuck looked at him with resentment and anger, Roslin's features softened slightly. Definitely not the same President he had been greeted with at his trial that long time ago. She pulled close, her voice dangerously low and laced with a soft derision;

"You do what you have to do, and I'll do what I have to do. Just make sure that your path does not cross mine and you'll stay this side of the airlock."

Baltar remained dumbfounded. He had heard her wrong, surely? Before he could ask her to confirm what she had said, Laura Roslin was already halfway to the hatch, her heels clicking against the floor with impatience. Starbuck jogged behind her, uncertain with where the President wanted to go. As if answering this unspoken question, she called out;

"I need to get to the brig on the double Lt Thrace. I trust you of all people would know where that was?" Her smile was brief, but lightened the atmosphere immediately, relieving the tension from the Hangar Bay.

"I could say the same of you Madam President," Starbuck retorted, smiling also. She then pointed to the left corridor, "It's this way. Let's go!"

Gaius Baltar stood rooted to the spot, his eyes never leaving the hatch that Roslin had just used to exit the room.

"Your path lies on the other side of the ship Gaius, now _move._"

Caprica Six's voice was snappy and urgent, causing Baltar to start into motion. He ran out the hatch and took the corridor that led right. He ignored the looks he received as he ran down the corridors, for right now, Gaius had a child to save.

**A/N**

**Well, chapter 24 should be up sometime soon. Hope you're okay with this story so far!**


	24. Pawns always Move First

**Authors Note**

**Chapter 24, oh yes it is! Spelling and grammar mistakes are my own and so I do apologise!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters what-so-ever, so please don't sue. If you're still keen on suing me, then do it over the story that you think is the best. Leave me a little bit of ego as I go to prison.**

**CIC**

**Battlestar Galactica**

"Lt Gaeta!" Admiral Adama barked from his position at the centre table. His sweeping gaze spotted the young man, clipboard in hand on the other side of the room.

"Sir?" Gaeta asked, confused. He was just about to leave off of his shift, when the sullen Admiral had suddenly spoken.

"I need you to make sure that Colonel Tigh reaches his quarters safely."

Gaeta was nonplussed by this order, but schooled his expression quickly. If Adama wanted an order carried out, he'd be the one to do it. He wouldn't let the Admiral of the fleet down.

"Sir." He acknowledged and moved to leave CIC quickly, hoping to catch up with Tigh quickly. Gaeta would show him to his quarters and leave just as fast. There was no way he was going to spend any extra time with his XO, not after being accused of collaboration. There was still a small amount of mutual hate between the two.

"Just follow him," Adama murmured. Gaeta jumped slightly in surprise. The Admiral had moved around closer to him, his posture nonchalant, as if checking the machine behind. His eyes, however, remained on Gaeta, "and if he doesn't go back to his quarters, I want you to come back here and report it. You understand?"

Gaeta nodded diligently, his hand rising in a salute, "Yes sir."

"Good. You are relieved Lt." With that, Adama returned the salute and moved back to the Dradis Console. Gaeta exited through the hatch quickly, his steps wary as he trailed behind his moody XO.

**Corridor**

**Battlestar Galactica**

"No reason to get excited," Tigh muttered to himself, his voice hoarse and out of tune. He didn't care, however, the song continuing, "The thief, he kindly spoke …"

His voice trailed off, his mind searching for the next part of the song. Every step brought a new word to him, and as he continued stiffly down the corridor, he knew that at some point the whole song would be running through his mind. Continuing to just hum the tune now, Tigh took a left at a small junction, almost knocking two viper jockeys down. There were no apologies asked and no apologies given, just mutinous mutterings from both parties as they made their way in opposite directions.

Tigh was soon at the door of his quarters, hand lightly placed on the wheel. However, he did not enter. A sudden feeling of disorientation hit him, spreading throughout his body. He wasn't meant to be here, not at his quarters.

Silently, he wondered where he _was _meant to be, where was he meant to be heading? Directions overwhelmed his conscious, pushing all other thoughts out of his head. His hand moved slowly off of the handle, and Tigh felt himself move, as if being pulled by a puppeteer in the opposite direction.

_So this is what it feels like to be triggered, to do some subconscious dirty frakking job, _he thought wryly as his feet echoed against the tiles on the floor. He didn't know where he was heading or why and he tried in vain to stop, to turn around and go back. Yet it seemed as though his mind, his command centre of his body was unattached, so he could do nothing but watch and panic as to where he was being guided, and what duty he had to perform.

Tigh could see people walk past him, crew members. Most ignored him and he wondered to himself whether they could see anything different in him. Maybe they could see he was walking different, maybe they could hear him muttering to himself, maybe they could see the strings that were tugging him against his will. If they did, they refused to acknowledge any of it, going about their duties as normal.

_Right as rain this lot, I know I could depend on them in a frakking emergency. No wonder why there have been so many sleeper agents in the fleet, _his running commentary didn't reach his mouth, and no sound was uttered as he was forced down lengthy corridors.

Suddenly, there was distant thud, and Tigh tried will all his effort to gain control of his eyes and see what he had hit. It would be suspicious if the XO had walked into a metal bulkhead after all. Concentrating his energy on looking down, he saw that it wasn't any object at all.

Felix Gaeta slowly picked himself up off the floor, wincing as he did. A dull ache shot through his arm, which he had thrown out to help soften his fall. It hadn't worked, it hardly ever did. Now there was shooting pains through his right side. Just as Gaeta was about to angrily open his mouth and remark, he noticed that Colonel Tigh seemed unusually detached.

"Sir?" he asked attentively, regarding the XO. He seemed not to hear, or not able to speak at least. His eye was darting all over the place, looking at his surroundings in alarm. He didn't respond to Gatea's questioning stare, instead pushing past him and moving back down the corridor, carrying on like he was on some sort of crusade. He was heading towards the Raptor Pilot's living quarters, Gaeta noticed, who hurried off quickly in the opposite direction to tell Admiral Adama. Something was wrong here.

Tigh moved on quickly, and soon found himself in a corridor that gave him access to Raptor Pilot's living quarters. Why in Kobol's name he was here, Tigh didn't know. Something was pulling him slowly towards the door to his left, but he refused to enter. Some small part of his subconscious was warning him, that if he was to go in now, it would result in something really bad. So he stood, and waited.

_Whose quarters were they anyway?_ Tigh wondered, glancing at the hatch. As if in answer to this unspoken question, the hatch opened slowly and he soon found himself face to face with-

"Colonel?" Helo asked, confused. His shift was in a few minutes and he opened the door to find the XO staring blankly into space behind it. Things were definitely weird today, he decided, but he had no time to question Tigh's actions, instead hurriedly saluting and, when he realised Tigh was preoccupied, jogging down the corridor to get to CIC quickly.

_Gods! _Tigh screamed inside his head,_ anywhere but here! _

**Corridor**

**Battlestar Galactica**

Sam Anders jogged down the corridor, breathing rapidly as he started his second lap of the corridors. Crew members were walking past, avoiding him or just ignoring his presence, carrying out their different tasks or just gossiping in small groups.

Taking a swift right, he breathed out heavily. His teeth ground together as a stitch formed in his side and Anders felt his weary legs come to a halt. He slowly backed up against the wall, the metal cooling on his overheated skin. As the blood rushed to his head, Sam heard a faint echoing in the distance. It sounded like music being played inside a room, but he knew that there was no music that sounded like that within the fleet. Realisation hit him and he groaned inwardly, _why can't it frakking leave me alone? _

"There are many here among us, who feel that like is but a joke …" Anders murmured, the tune catching in his throat. That same song that haunted both his dreams and waking hours. The constant reminder that after all this time, he was a frakking toaster, a lie.

"Frak!" He screamed in anguish, punching the wall behind him with force. The melody softly carried through the corridors, and Sam felt his anger, his pain, slowly disappear. An overwhelming urge to follow it surged through him, and his feet automatically carried him forwards, past hatches and corridors.

He didn't want to fight it, he realised, as a sense of peace came over him. He couldn't talk, couldn't walk, couldn't act on his own accord, and yet Sam felt no anticipation, no worry at the thought. He just let the pull carry him away, through to the corridor filled with living quarters.

He stopped at a certain hatch, and felt his hand move towards the wheel. What he didn't see, however, as he pushed the hatch open, was the man standing just a few feet away, his face showing pure agony as he tried to fight the pull. Anders did not see Colonel Tigh standing in the middle of the corridor as he slowly entered the quarters that belonged to the Agathons.

**Cylon Holding Cell**

**Battlestar Galactica**

"It's happening!!" Caprica Six screamed, her eyes showing dangerous levels of anger and anguish, "do something!!"

She had been screaming for a while and her throat felt as if it were on fire. No attention was paid to her. But then again why would they? _I'm a cylon, and cylon's aren't to be trusted, _she thought painfully to herself. When were they ever going to learn?

She threw herself at the confines of her cell, her hands flailing, scratching whatever she could come into contact with. Hera was in danger and she had to save her. _Right now._

Caprica soon felt tired, her hands slowly balling into fists as she slid hopelessly down the wall. No-one was going to release her, she'd have to accept that. Pulling her legs in tight, she tried in vain to keep the tears at bay, but found herself losing the battle. They splashed harmlessly against the floor below her as Caprica rocked back and forth slowly, trying to block out the noises. She could hear a distant echo, a scream. It was Hera, she knew.

"I'm coming Hera. I'm coming." She whispered to herself, her hands wiping away the tear tracks that run down her cheeks. Suddenly, a resounding bang carried through to the cell, and Caprica shot her head up in surprise. The hatch door had been thrown open and her eyes immediately sought out the people entering the room. Were they her saviours or executioners?

Laura Roslin briskly entered the cell, a flick of her hand indicating that the guards were not to interfere unless ordered. They stood resolutely by the door. Kara Thrace entered warily behind the President, her gun pointed steadily at Caprica. The cylon picked herself up off the floor quickly. It was Laura, she would understand. As she opened her mouth to speak, however, Roslin cut her off.

"Nope," She shook her head, "don't say it. Guards!" She indicated to the men at the door, who now ran into the cell, "get these restraints off of the prisoner now! She's coming with me."

If the Marine's had any objections or confusion with that order, they didn't show it, moving efficiently towards Caprica Six and removing her restraints. Rubbing her wrists slowly, Caprica smiled in gratitude at the President, who returned it quickly before moving out of the cell.

"Quickly," She ordered, allowing Kara to move in front, "I need to get to Sharon Agathon's quarters, _now._"

"Can do Madam President," Kara stated, saluting and moving out of the hatch. She ran down the corridor, with both Laura Roslin and Caprica Six at her heels.

**A/N**

**Next chapter up sometime soon. I hope you're liking it. **


	25. Obstacles and Watchtowers

**Authors Note**

**Sorry for the delay in chapters! I blame my exams, but luckily my exams are all over now! So here we go!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters what-so-ever, so please don't sue. If you're still keen on suing me, then do it over the story that you think is the best. Leave me a little bit of ego as I go to prison.**

**Corridor**

**Battlestar Galactica**

Tory ran down the corridor, a look of mild annoyance on her face. Her heels clicked impatiently as she turned another corner, and she was seriously considering commandeering some flat shoes as the impact of the shoes on metal floors sent vibrations through her body.

She had just been informed of the President's arrival on the Galactica, and she quickly tried to make her way down to the hangar bay to greet her, and give her the schedule for the rest of the day. The only problem was, when she had reached the hangar bay, Tory had found nothing but an empty raptor and a couple of confused Marines loitering around.

Not knowing where the President had headed, Tory set off down the corridors of the Battlestar, hoping for a glimpse of the telltale Auburn hair or the echo of heels. However, she had seen no fiery redness in the crowds of Galactica crew members and the only heels that could be heard for metres were her own. She didn't give up, however, turning down another corridor in a vain attempt to find Roslin.

After a few minutes of continuous running, Tory soon found herself tiring out. _I should have gone with Laura when she went to the gym, _she thought to herself, and groaned inwardly when a dull ache attacked her side, indicating a stitch. She stopped, catching her breath and looking around at her surroundings. She hadn't bothered taking the time to get to know her way around the ship, figuring it pointless as she only needed to know the way to the pilots quarters, meeting rooms and CIC. Now however, as she glanced around, she regretted not asking for a tour. She was lost.

Many hatches branched off of the corridor she found herself in, and Tory figured that she must be near living quarters. Maybe someone would come past soon, on their way to their racks, and give her some directions. There was nothing much more that could be done, and Tory leant back against the bulkhead, sighing as she felt her feet throbbing.

Suddenly, the air around her seemed dense. She couldn't breathe. Her lungs were whining in protest and she valiantly tried to draw a breath. It felt as if someone had covered her mouth and nose, causing the overwhelming fear of asphyxiation to rise from the pit of her stomach. Something was wrong, she knew as she tried to push herself away from the wall to get help. Her legs refused to obey her commands however, and her head started to thump painfully.

Tory was used to headaches, you had to be if you worked on schedules and meetings and had a disagreement with Laura Roslin. This wasn't like the others though, and Tory felt her legs start to buckle beneath her. She brought out her hands quickly to cushion the fall, yet she did not collapse. It was a weird feeling, she noted as her legs shakily propelled her forwards, to not be in control of her own body. The invisible force covering her face slowly dissolved, allowing her to gasp and breathe in huge amounts of air.

As soon as she managed to get her breathing under control, she wildly looked around hoping for the slightest glimpse of another human being, to grab onto her and to help her regain control. As her legs pushed her down the corridor, her hopes vanished and were replaced with raw fear; _is this something to do with my programming? Where am I going?_ Questions raced through her mind, and she found one of them answered, as she made her way past a sign indicating Living Quarters for pilots.

"But you and I, we've been through that, and this is not our fate …" the words tumbled from her mouth, without her knowledge. She could hear the music filtering in through the ship, lulling her mind into acceptance. She wanted to fight it, she _needed _to fight it. She was Tory Foster, a human. She chose to be human.

As she was pushed forwards, something blocked her. She was near now, so close to where she was meant to be …. Just a few more feet … but the obstacle in front of her would not budge, no matter how much her body tried to push past it. Her mind screamed at her; _look at what is blocking you! Stop moving! Tory Foster, pull yourself together! Fight back!_

Her body wasn't listening, struggling futilely against the force pushing her back. Suddenly, she felt herself being pushed back into the bulkhead, the obstacle now surrounding her, keeping her from moving. Words drifted past Tory's ears, but she couldn't quite grasp what was being said.

_Focus, _her mind scolded her, and she felt a little bit of control seep back in. She focused in on what was being said.

"Foster, will you frakking stand still!? Don't make me hit you because Godsdamnit I will!"

The voice was rough and angry, and Tory felt herself relax slightly under the familiarity of it. She was in the mildly assuring presence of Colonel Saul Tigh. When he realized that he had gained her complete attention and felt her stop struggling, he pulled away slightly, panting.

"Godsdamnit woman," he sighed, taking a few steps backwards, "you're a fighter."

"Colonel?" Tory managed to find her voice. She needed assurance that it was really him, and not some Cylon taking over his body as she had felt take over hers just moments ago.

"Yeah, it's me." He answered her silent question, but his attention was fixed on the door in front of him, "we're outside Helo and Athena's quarters. Anders has gone in already, I couldn't stop him."

"We need to get in there Colonel. Do you have a gun on you?"

Tigh looked at her, his only eye showing great surprise at being asked such a question. He didn't reply with words, instead pulling a gun from within his uniform. Tory nodded in acknowledgement, indicating that he should keep it out.

"We need to get in there Colonel, now."

If he had any trouble in understanding her request, he didn't show it, instead throwing his weight onto the hatch wheel in front, and slowly turning it ….

**Hangar Bay 2#**

**Battlestar Galactica**

Tyrol hummed to himself as he scooted underneath a nearby Viper. The engines were completely destroyed and it needed a new windscreen placed in, but other than that the condition of it looked to be adequate. Tyrol smiled at this conclusion. This bird was going to survive to fight another day. After an explosive training mission gone awry, he was three days backlogged on repairs. It didn't help that his working relationship with Cally had completely fallen apart, as she would have been useful when they had to tackle a communications problem on a nearby Raptor. Tyrol and Lairs had spent hours trying to get their arms behind the Raptors casing, a job that would have taken the small Cally merely minutes.

With a loud sigh of relief, Tyrol pulled himself away from the downed Viper, and stood up quickly. He moved towards the trolley holding his tools and started to grasp at the ones he'd need to hook out the engine. _If only another part of it could have taken the brunt of the shots_, he thought to himself, _engines are so hard to come by now. I'll have to look in the serviceable scrap. _

As he turned around to get started on the Viper, his ears picked up a soft humming. It was a tune, he was sure of it. A familiar one at that. It glided softly past him, whispering and tempting him to follow. Shaking his head slightly, Tyrol felt words form and slowly exit his mouth, yet he was not the one speaking then.

"So let us not talk falsely now, the hour's getting late …" his voice picked up the tune of the soft humming and he felt captivated. He felt tools slip slowly out of his grasp and land with a harsh thud against the hangar bay floor, yet he did not care. His legs took on a life of their own, moving him towards the hatch that separated the Hangar Bay from the rest of the ship. A smile appeared on Tyrol's lips as his hand rested on the wheel of the hatch. It all made sense now, what he was going to do.

"Chief?" A voice called faintly from behind him. He didn't respond. He _couldn't _respond, only turn his head slightly to acknowledge that someone had spoken. A hand gently touched his shoulder, and he recognized the deep voice of Figurski, a fellow knuckle-dragger.

"We're backlogged on repairs, sir. This is no time to be wandering off. We need to get that Viper up or the CAG is going to have our arses on platters."

Tyrol didn't move from his position, making Figurski wonder if he had even heard him. Seconds ticked by slowly, and still no movement from the Chief. Just as Figurski went to reiterate his point, however, Tyrol spun the hatch wheel and opened it with a loud creak.

"All along the watchtower …" he murmured, before stepping through and shutting it behind him, leaving his fellow deck hand standing, confused. Tyrol was alone now, surveying the corridor in front. Nothing to do but follow the music, he decided, turning left at a junction. He wasn't heading towards Athena's quarters, instead choosing a different path …

**Hangar Bay 2#**

**Battlestar Galactica**

Cally stepped out from the head, back onto the hangar bay floor. She needed to check the communications on that Raptor that Tyrol and Laird had repaired. Wanting nothing to do with her ex-husband anymore, Cally had made herself invisible and watched patiently as Tyrol had smacked the Raptor and yelled "frak" before guiding Laird away to clean up the multiple cuts they had gotten.

As she moved towards the raptor, Cally stumbled slightly. She balanced herself quickly and sighed in relief. The Gods were looking out for her lately, first giving her a home and now saving her from any serious injury. She looked down in annoyance to find a wrench planted on the floor.

"Who the frak would leave a wrench on the floor?" she muttered to herself angrily, then realization hit her. There was only one person to be so careless, to be so lazy-

"Figurski!" she screamed angrily, looking around wildly for the deck hand. He was a walking hazard that man, she thought, as her gaze located him. He was over by the hatch, talking to someone. The person looked familiar, and as he slowly left, she recognized it to be Galen.

Figurski slowly turned around, dazed at sound of someone calling his name, and found Cally rushing over.

"Where did the Chief go?" She asked him quickly, annoyed because now they were down one knuckle-dragger. Having the Chief walk out on them now was not good, as they were already behind in their work.

"I don't know Cally," Figurski answered honestly, "he didn't say. He dropped his tools and left. I told him we're up to our frakking necks in work and are backlogged by three days, but he either didn't listen or just didn't seem to care!"

Cally looked worried, reflecting the exact expression that Figurski wore. The Chief just walking out was definitely not a good sign, and Cally wondered where the hell he had gone.

"Did he say _anything _Figurski?" Cally asked impatiently, hoping she'd get some clue as to what was more important than the repair of their Birds.

"Actually now tha' you mention it," He said slowly, trying to remember what the Chief had said, "he did hum something about a watchtower."

"A watchtower?"

"Yeah, I though it was pretty frakked up," Figurski nodded, before moving away, "I gotta go. I got three Vipers that need new wings for fraks sake!" With that, he swiftly moved away and over to the other side of the deck.

"A watchtower …." Cally murmured, trying desperately to remember why that seemed so familiar to her, "a watchtower …" Suddenly, it struck her. Before reaching the Ionian Nebula, Tyrol had spent nights humming the same tune, about a watchtower. Armed with this information and the knowledge of what Tyrol was, Cally ran towards the hatch, intent on following the Chief. If he was going to blow up this ship, she was going to try her best to stop him.

**A/N**

**Really sorry about the delay! Hopefully the next chapter will be up faster :D Have patience with me if you can.**


	26. The Painful Truth

**Authors Note**

**Ok guys seriously I'm really sorry about the delay! I've been redecorating my room and I just haven't had time to write recently! Anyway, Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters what-so-ever, so please don't sue. If you're still keen on suing me, then do it over the story that you think is the best. Leave me a little bit of ego as I go to prison.**

**Agathon's Quarters**

**Battlestar Galactica**

Hera gurgled happily from her cot. The recently procured mobile rotated gently above her, the soft colours melding into one as it started to pick up speed. _She likes the mobile_, Sharon happily noted as her daughter started to laugh more, her hands reaching out and batting the plastic Vipers so they swung more dangerously.

Turning her back to Hera, Sharon continued her previous task of meticulously folding clothes that had recently been brought back from the laundry room. Helo was not going to be back for a few hours, as he had been called to CIC to cover for Colonel Tigh. He kept insisting that the job was just temporary and that Tigh would be back to his usual self in no time, but Sharon wasn't naive. She knew better than that. The XO of the ship had been different since the Ionian Nebula, and she had found herself alone with Hera a lot more in recent weeks due to this "temporary job" of Helo's.

A snap from behind brought Sharon back into the present, and she quickly spun around, anxious. _What had happened? _Hera suddenly burst into tears and Sharon glanced around, looking for some sign as to what caused her daughter's sudden distress. The sign came when she felt a small knock against her bare foot. A small, plastic raptor lazily stopped, and fell to the ground with a soft 'thud'. Relief flooded through her as she realised what had happened. Hera must have broken her mobile.

Sharon quickly bent down and retrieved the raptor, making her way over to the cot. Gently, she replaced the raptor on the mobile, and gave it a gentle prod to start moving again. Hera continued to cry however, not impressed with her mother's attempt to fix the broken toy. Her cries were real, tears streaming down her cheeks, and Sharon wondered what was wrong. _Hera has broken loads of toys and never has she been this upset over it, _she thought to herself, calmly trying to pacify her daughter.

"Shhh, shhh Hera. It's ok baby." She bent down and ran her hand gently along Hera's cheek in a long soothing motion. Yet Hera still continued to cry. Sharon started to worry more now.

"Hera, Hera, listen to mummy. Listen," She desperately tried to speak over Hera's growing wails, "calm down, what's wrong? What's-"

Before she could finish the sentence, a loud bang resonated on the hatch and Sharon glanced around in confusion. Helo couldn't be this early, he'd only just left. Before she had a chance to get to the door, the hatch wheel slowly spun. Sharon looked around the room, desperately trying to find her gun or something else that could threaten off this potential intruder. All she could find near her was a pile of neatly folded clothes however.

_If you're desperate, _she assured herself, trying to steady her breathing from the panic that was welling up inside of her; _you can always suffocate them with a towel I guess._

If the situation wasn't so serious, she'd have laughed. Instead, she found herself rooted to the ground, a look of apprehension on her face as the hatch slowly opened to reveal ….

"Sam!?" Sharon focused on the man in front of her. Sam Anders didn't seem to respond to his name being called, his eyes staring blankly in front. Sharon didn't notice however, relief flooding through her. She shakily ran her hand through her hair and turned her back briefly on the man.

"For fraks sake Sam," she laughed unsteadily, once again looking at him, "you could have frakking knocked! I thought you were an intruder …."

Her voice travelled past Sam, who was not listening to a word she was saying. Sharon carried on talking, her back turned and her arms moving towards the cot to pick Hera up.

"Didn't Karl tell you? The Triad game isn't on tonight, he had to cancel because he's on duty and-"

It happened in an instant. Her hands had barely caressed Hera's t-shirt when a blinding pain attacked the back of her head. It felt as if it was splitting in two, and her vision faded to black. Sharon was falling, the pain now a dull throb, and she felt the side of her face hit the floor. She was floating out of consciousness; the only sound heard being Hera's growing cries, before nothing …

**Corridor**

**Battlestar Galactica**

"Move it nuggets!" Kara ordered, pushing past rookie pilots who were loitering around the corridor, discussing the latest piece of gossip. They immediately stood at attention when Kara Thrace ran by them, and could do nothing more than stare open mouthed when she was followed by the President of the 12 Colonies and a Cylon prisoner. This was a strange occurrence and as soon as the trio had turned the corner, the pilots burst into life, speculating as to what was going on.

"Nuggets?" Laura Roslin asked, pushing her legs harder as she tried to keep up with Kara.

"Yeah," Kara replied quickly, her eyes never leaving the corridor ahead of her. It had been a while since she had participated in a jog around the battlestar, and an even longer time since she had company, especially that of Roslin and Caprica Six. Talking while running was never a good idea, "rookie pilots …. Called nuggets …."

She was trying to keep her breathing steady, to prevent a stitch. Roslin seemed to notice, as she stopped talking immediately and concentrated on her intended target.

"How long before we get there?" Caprica Six called out from behind. She was finding no trouble in running for so long, her pace a lazy stride. Her tone indicated urgency and Kara wondered what the hell was going on. _Being a good soldier involves doing what is asked without questioning orders, _Kara reminded herself, and so just did her duty instead of asking useless questions.

"About ten minutes … if we keep at … this pace!" Kara panted slightly. Caprica Six didn't respond and just made sure she stayed with them. It was dangerous for a Cylon to be running around these corridors. She knew what had happened to Boomer.

A small groan elicited from behind Kara and she knew immediately that Roslin was wearing out. She wasn't used to running like Kara was. Kara slowed her pace a little, and moved beside the President, who was clutching her side with one hand.

"Madame … President …" Kara started, her legs protesting against the sudden change of pace, "we need to keep …. going …."

"I'm sure the exercise …. will be good …for me…" Roslin replied, her breaths coming short and sharp. Her eyes twinkled slightly in amusement, but the rest of her gave no indication that she found this funny.

"The Old Man …. will like it …" Kara stated bluntly, and when Roslin looked at her in surprise, she set off in front again, laughing inwardly to herself when she heard the President's heels clicking against the metal floors faster.

**Control Room**

**Cylon Basestar**

D'anna stood solemnly, her hand gently caressing the panel in front. She was deep in thought, her eyes narrowed in concentration.

"He said that Tigh was gone," She murmured to herself, "It's beginning already."

"D'anna?" Leoben entered the room cautiously. Ever since D'anna had been returned to them, the other cylon models had been wary. The woman radiated knowledge and understanding, and all of them on the ship yearned to taste this forbidden fruit, this revelation that was not meant to be known to them, the Final Five. It had caused the split between models. D'anna stood right in front of them, in the flesh, but was reluctant to give anything up.

They dared not ask outright for information, and instead left her in peace in the control room. Her and the human known as Kara Thrace had struck up a connection, a common cause; they both wanted to find earth for their people.

"Leoben." D'anna replied, smiling slightly. He was in awe of her, she could see. He had wanted so much to know the truth and words of God, and yet here stood D'anna holding them.

"The battlestar is requesting a secure line to you." Leoben stated, moving forward slightly. He was one of the only models that would actually talk to her, as the others preferred to leave her alone. She was grateful for Two's attention.

"Ahh is it now?" D'anna was not at all surprised of intrigued. She had kept the secret to herself for long enough and it was time to pass it on. She gave Leoben a long searching glance.

_Let him hear the revelation, it will give them something. _

"Give them an open line Leoben." She stated, her attention drawn back to the panel in front, where she was lazily drawing circles with her fingers.

The room was silent for a few moments before static suddenly sounded, indicating that the battlestar had an open line with them.

"_D'anna?" _A low, rough voice on the other end greeted her.

"Admiral Adama, so nice of you to call," D'anna responded, amusement evident in her voice. Leoben moved to exit the control room, but was stopped by D'anna's signalling. She wanted him to stay and listen to the conversation. Leoben was honoured, stopping mid-exit and turning around. He moved to the other side of the panel so he didn't disturb the line, "what can I do for you?" D'anna continued.

"_According to my sources, Colonel Tigh is not going back to his quarters like I requested. I want to know what the frak is going on in my ship and I want to know NOW."_

"Maybe he is … what was the term used within the fleet? Ahh yes, OBE. Overcome by events, Admiral."

"_I don't want any frakking mind games D'anna,"_ Adama's voice held urgency and anger, "_I want to know the truth!"_

D'anna's eyebrows rose and a smile made its way across her face. She withdrew her hand from the panel in front and leaned bodily against it, "what if I was to say that the truth is so immense that you cannot even begin to comprehend it?"

"_Give me the truth D'anna."_

"It's too much to tell over a line Admiral," D'anna stated nonchalantly. She was thoroughly enjoying this sense of power of who was once her leader, "I can, however, tell you this; The Final Five have almost come together now. It's Judgement Day for us, them and you."

Silence greeted her for a moment, before a very calm, low voice filled her ears.

"_What has this got to do with Colonel Tigh?"_

"I applaud you. You're either painfully naive or painfully ignorant. The Final Five are in your fleet-"

"_What has-"_

"-and Colonel Tigh is one of them."

**A/N**

**I hope you're all enjoying this so far. Review if you want, because I'd like to know what you're thinking of it. **

**Next chapter up soon!**


	27. Showdown part I

**Authors Note**

**Big thanks to Mikki the Motivator for helping me get this chapter written! I would probably be sitting here dribbling if she hadn't have helped me! Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters what-so-ever, so please don't sue. If you're still keen on suing me, then do it over the story that you think is the best. Leave me a little bit of ego as I go to prison.**

**Agathon's Quarters**

**Battlestar Galactica**

Anders pulled Sharon into the corner, his movements deliberate. Her eyelids flickered occasionally, but other than that she gave no indication of being conscious of what was going on around her. He wondered briefly whether the hit to the head had caused any damage, but shook off the thought. He couldn't afford to be expressive, not right now.

With a final grunt of exertion, he released his hold on Sharon's clothes, leaving her to hit the floor with a soft 'thud'. He wiped his hands on his tanks and slowly drew his gun out. He had checked the bullets after he had knocked Athena out, but it didn't hurt to double check. Two rounds in his gun. _That'll be plenty, _Anders thought to himself.

His attention was now drawn to the piercing cries of the child in the corner. The hybrid child. _The one. _He slowly moved over towards the cot and tried to pick her up, juggling the gun in his hands. With an ease that he didn't know he had, Anders pulled Hera up and cradled her in his arms, the gun still firmly clasped in his right hand. Looking down at the child's face, he felt a mixture of dread and anticipation of what he was going to do. This child couldn't survive. She would be the death of him, he knew it. The death of so many. Humans and Cylons living together was a mockery, a lie. They couldn't, not with their past. Slaves and masters dining together, it wasn't right. It couldn't happen.

"You're the next step in evolution," he whispered to the child, smiling slightly as Hera quietened immediately, taking in his soothing voice, "the shape of things to come. Soon, there will be no humans and cylons. There will only be children, like yourself. This cannot happen."

As he finished the sentence, his voice rose in octaves as he tried to hold back his reaction to the horror he was about to commit. He couldn't stop however, his body taking control of itself, slowly shifting Hera in his grip in order to raise the gun. Drops of water splashed against the unsuspecting child's clothes, and he wasn't surprised when he found the source, watery tracks making their way down his cheeks.

"I …. can't …." He spoke through gritted teeth, his breathing sharp as he felt his hand rise up. _This is it, _he realised as he looked at the helpless child in his arms, _this is what I was born to do. All these years have been a lie, and suddenly by the flick of a switch my fate is decided. _

He was resigned now, sighing in defeat as his body betrayed him and held the gun steadily, the finger flexing against the trigger.

"Put down that FRAKKING gun you son of a bitch!"

Anders looked up in shock. His eyes were immediately drawn to the barrel of a gun, directly pointed at his own face. It took a few minutes for his brain to register what was going on, but when he finally caught up, Anders found himself looking past the gun itself and looking at the person behind it.

Colonel Saul Tigh was standing sideways, his stance rigid as he held the gun steady at his target. Anders could only stare as the XO clicked the safety off, a warning for him to put down weapon, a threat that he could die if he disobeyed. There was fire in Tigh's visible eye, burning anger rising up from within as he glared at this weak man (or was it machine at this moment?) in front of him. Anders hadn't fought it like he had. Sam had just let it take control, guide him away. Tigh did not tolerate weakness.

"I _said_," Tigh spoke steadily, his eyes never leaving Sam, "put down that frakking gun or I'll send you to lifestation in a match box!"

Anders didn't move. His eyes swept around the room, taking in everything. Tory Foster stood directly to Tigh's right, her arms crossed in front in a professional manner, almost as if this was just some boring Quorum meeting that she was desperately waiting to wrap up. They were both standing in front of the hatch, blocking his only means of escape.

_This ends here, _Anders realised, his gun still not moving from his hand. The watery tracks that made their way down his face were no longer tears. Sweat beaded his forehead and ran freely down his neck.

"You seem to be sweating there," Tigh murmured, his voice echoing around the quarters, "I've always wondered whether toasters sweat," He moved his other hand slowly up to his forehead and brushed his skin there, his fingers coming away dry, "but I guess it's only the ones with no human attachments. No emotions, no empathy, no soul."

"Put her down Sam," Tory said slowly, walking forwards with great trepidation. Her hands were held out in front, signalling her lack of weapon and that she was not a danger to him, "put Hera down. We can walk out of here now. We can walk out together and no-one will have to know."

She glanced past Sam quickly and spotted Sharon in the corner, slumped over, breathing still. Athena's eyes started to open and her mouth moved, but no words came out. _That fraks up that plan, _Tory thought desperately, her eyes travelling back towards Sam.

"I'm not walking out, not with this traitor!" Saul roared, his gun raised higher and jabbing in Sam's direction. Tigh lifted his chin up in defiance, his eyes wide with rage.

"Traitor!?" Sam shouted back, equally angry. Hera swung precariously in her arms and she started to cry once more. Tory moved forward quickly to take Hera and soothe her but Sam was having none of it, directing his gun at Tory's face, warning her to back off, "we're frakking Cylons!! Nothing you say is going to change that! Don't you get it!? We can't carry on as humans! They'll kill us if we do! You're living a lie if you think any different! And _I'm _the traitor!?"

His voice rose as he spoke and he breathed heavily, shaking his head slightly to rid himself of the sweat now running down near his eyes. Tigh just stared blankly, his gun still raised. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Samuel Anders, fellow resistance fighter on New Caprica, husband to Kara, friend to Saul himself, defending frakking skin jobs, disowning the entire human race.

Tigh's eye looked past Anders and focused in on Sharon, who was now fully conscious. She was staring open mouthed at the scene before her, her mind working fast at the sudden revelations. Those three were cylons, but that couldn't be possible, not unless … she gasped in realisation. Three of the Final Five stood before her, ready to fight.

She met Tigh's intense gaze, and his eye told her everything his voice could not. The emotions whirling within him projected themselves to Sharon, and what she saw brought her to tears; _Guilt, anger, empathy, sorrow. _They fought for dominance and Sharon tore her eyes away quickly, not wanting to see any more. The XO was a cylon, a member of the Final Five, a "machine" just like her.

"My name is Saul Tigh," Tigh whispered, his eye slowly moving back and focusing on Anders in front of him, "I am XO of the Battlestar Galactica, friend to Admiral William Adama, widowed husband to Ellen Tigh, and a superior arsehole," his lips curved upwards slightly as he quoted Starbuck's description of him, "I'm human to them. I'm human."

With that, he flexed his finger on the trigger and squinted to gain accuracy. He and Tory had rushed through a plan as he had spun the wheel. _Shoot through the shoulder, _Tigh reminded himself, _and Tory will grab Hera as he falls. _

A simple plan, yet as he stood there now, it couldn't have been more difficult. Anders pointed his gun slowly at Tigh. It was going to be a showdown. Tory looked horrified at the scene before her. They were going to kill eachother. The silence in the room was unbearable, the only audible sounds being heavy breathing and the light clicks as the safety on the guns was clicked repeatedly on and off.

The wait was excruciating, and Tory could only watch as they stared eachother down. She needed to wait for Tigh to do his part, before she could dive in and rescue Hera. Minutes went by and still there was nothing. Suddenly, a faint banging could be heard and this caused Anders to hitch his breath, his finger now slowly curling around the trigger tighter. This was it.

The hatch banged open with a sudden force, sending three people rushing in to greet the scene before them. Faces were a blur as Anders quickly waved his gun in an arc and fired off two bullets in surprise. Time seemed to stand still. Tigh reacted to the shots, pulling the trigger of his gun and watching in horror as Anders fell to the floor in front, his body hitting the metal with force. Sometime in the chaos when Anders was shot, Tory had moved forwards and plucked Hera from his grip, and she was now cradling the small girl in her arms, looking around her in shock.

Tigh noticed her surprise and turned around slowly to take in the three intruders. All three were lying on the floor, blood oozing slowly out of two of them ….

The XO returned his stare to the body of Sam Anders, and moved towards it. Anders was shaking, blood oozing from his chest. His breaths were ragged and red liquid formed a thin line from his mouth down his neck, indicating that he didn't have long. Tigh crouched down and listened as Anders tried to talk.

"This …. wasn't …meant …. to … happen …" Anders whispered, coughing and wincing as blood ran freely through his fingers that were plastered to his chest.

"A lot of things weren't Sam," Tigh murmured in reply, his eyes filling up slowly with unshed tears, "we just have to make the best of what we are given."

"Tell … Kara … I lo-" His sentence died on his lips and his breathing stopped suddenly. Ander's eyes were glazed over, looking up at the ceiling of the quarters, looking for the heavens. Tigh did the only honourable thing, gently closing his eyelids. Sam Anders was gone.

**A/N**

**The next chapter will be the last moments of this chapter but from another point of view, plus more of what happens after. I hope all you Anders fans don't hate me now! I tried to give him an honourable death, honest!**


	28. Showdown part II

**Authors Note**

**Quick update. As soon as I wrote the last chapter, I just had to write the next one! I'm a slave to my own story, what can I say? Mikki, now you've got to put your chapter up! mwahaha! Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters what-so-ever, so please don't sue. If you're still keen on suing me, then do it over the story that you think is the best. Leave me a little bit of ego as I go to prison.**

**Agathon's Quarters**

**Battlestar Galactica**

It had happened so quickly. Kara, Six and Roslin had reached the hatch, their sides aching from the exertion. Without any prompts, Kara flung herself at the wheel and pushed her entire body weight against it. It refused to budge, however, causing her to emit a growl of annoyance.

"C'mon you frakker." She hissed, eyes screwed up shut in the effort. A sudden 'clang' signalled the locking mechanism's release and Kara quickly stepped back. She turned towards the two women behind her, who looked equally as apprehensive. Roslin folded her arms across her chest, moving her weight from foot to foot. She didn't know what was happening in the room in front of them. If they ran in now, without any knowledge, something bad could happen to them. _Whereas if we don't get in there, we may be too late, _a voice inside her mind told her. The choice seemed obvious, as she flickered between the two. She was meant to protect Hera, that's what these visions had been about. It had all led up to this moment, and at _this _moment Roslin was indecisive.

Caprica Six behind her looked at the hatch, her eyes concentrating on the wheel. There was a pull towards this room, she realised. She could feel it. She needed to be in this room. She was meant to protect –

_Hera, you're meant to protect Hera. _

_So why does it feel like you're meant to protect someone else? _The sudden question struck her. Yes, Hera had played a vital role in the visions, with her picking the young girl up and carrying her away, protecting her, loving her. Yet standing at this hatch, Caprica Six felt another instinct take over. She was meant to protect Hera, yes, but she was meant to protect someone else also. Someone who ….

"… someone who will lead us all to earth." She murmured out loud. Both women in front turned toward her curiously, the silence surrounding them having been broken. Caprica Six met their questioning gazes with a look of wonder, before gently nudging Roslin, murmuring, "We must get in there _now._"

She agreed, and indicated to Kara to open the hatch. Adrenaline was pumping through their veins and the run did nothing to diminish the anxiety, the anticipation of what they were about to face. The Final Five.

Kara pushed at the hatch, but once again it refused to budge. She wanted to laugh, but couldn't find the energy. Besides, it would probably really piss the other two off if she was to start laughing now, of all times. Kara Thrace had a knack for doing the stupidest things at inappropriate times. Instead, she concentrated her frustration at the door in front, and she angrily threw herself, shoulder first, into it, pushing her way through like a bull. Roslin and Six joined in, spreading their hands against the hatch and pushing their weight against it. It worked, with the door creaking loudly and the hinges giving way. The hatch opened quickly, sending Kara, Roslin and Six tumbling into the quarters.

The scene that met their eyes bewildered them. Time stood still, and Kara felt her eyes graze the people in front. Anders stood, shock written on his features, clutching Hera to his chest and pulling a gun up quickly. His eyes looked straight at her, but no recognition flickered. It was like he was a machine. She didn't have time to digest this, however, and she watched as the gun was raised and the trigger pulled, firing two bullets …

Roslin saw Tory standing in the centre of the room. _What the frak is Tory doing here? _She wondered, and then it clicked. Final Five … Tory …._no! _her mind screamed, _it can't be true! You trusted that woman! _Yet as these thoughts flew at her, Roslin found herself looking around, taking more in. The occupants were standing before her. Sharon lay in the corner, fearful. Tigh stood in the centre, his gun raised to the chest of …. Samuel Anders. He was holding Hera.

_The two protect her. But only one is trying to harm her. _Before she could react to this mistake, Roslin saw Anders raise his gun, and saw him shoot in a sweeping arc. Three shots rang out, and she saw a blur …

Caprica Six didn't need time to register the situation. She was looking at the faces of three of the Final Five. Tigh had his back to her, the gun pointed at the chest of Anders, who in turn glanced sharply at the three who had just entered the room. Surprise appeared on his face and his hand quickly pulled up, a gun glinting in the soft light of the room.

_Protect!! _

It happened suddenly. She didn't register what she was doing, she just knew that it was right. She had to protect the one who was going to lead them to earth. Caprica Six moved quickly, her body pushing another person to the ground. Shots were fired …

Searing pain stabbed at Kara's stomach, sending her slamming into the bulkhead behind her. She winced in agony, but words could not form in her mouth. The word "frak" just wouldn't cut it this time, she realised as she risked looking at her injury. She brought her hands slowly to her stomach and her fingers came away coated in blood. It hurt, a lot. She tried to focus on something else, but her vision started to fade.

_Frakking stay awake, _she told herself angrily, _don't die. Not now. Starbuck goes out in a blaze of glory, not like this. _

Clinging to this thought, she pushed herself to her knees, groaning in agony and biting the inside of her mouth. It didn't help, only making the pain worse as her molars came away with chunks of the inside of her cheeks.

"Ahhh…" she gritted her teeth and pushed herself up, clutching her stomach. She remained stooped over, grunting from the effort and blindly ran from the room, a trail of blood following her.

_This was not how Starbuck was going to go. _

**Corridor,**

**Battlestar Galactica**

Admiral William Adama was not usually the man any crew member would see running through the corridors of Galactica. So as they spotted his commanding presence rush past them, rumours immediately started to fly. He pushed his way through groups lazily making their way around, a group of fully armed Marines following in his wake. No-one dared stop him, as judging by the thunderous expression on his face, he was a man on a mission.

_Colonel Tigh is one of them. _

D'anna's voice played repeatedly through his mind as he picked up speed, making his way through the maze that was the Galactica. The number three model had remained reluctant about sharing anything more than that, but he was able to get her to divulge that it was to do with a child. A hybrid child. Putting two and two together efficiently, Adama now found himself sprinting towards the Agathon's hatch. He failed to notice in his blind fury and panic that a small puddle of blood lay just outside the door, with specks of it gracing the corridor leading the other way.

Instead, he pushed his way through the hatch, into the room. His eyes travelled the quarters, taking in all of its occupants. Tigh stood over a body, a gun held loosely in his hand and a look of defeat in his visible eye. He couldn't look at the man, not yet. The pain of betrayal was still too raw. His best friend, a cylon all this time. Anger welled up within him, and Adama focused on who else was in the room. He identified the body at Tigh;s feet as Anders. _Kara's going to be upset, _he thought, and felt a fresh wave of pain at the thought of what his near daughter-in-law was going to have to find out eventually. Tory stood just off centre, clutching Hera tightly to her chest, her cheek nestled in the young girl's fine hair. Tears ran freely down her cheeks as her gaze fixated on someone within the room.

He followed her gaze and was immediately drawn to two bodies, slumped on the floor. Caprica Six lay limply, her eyes shocked. It took a few minutes, and Adama finally registered that she was not breathing. There was no look of tranquil peace on her face, just surprise, as if this wasn't planned. _It wasn't, _he admonished himself, _how the frak could this be planned? _He felt wavering sympathy for the cylon at his feet. She gave her knowledge, rebelled against her own race and sacrificed her own life, for the humans.

A sob erupted from the corner and a blur pushed past him and over to Hera. Adama noted that it was Sharon, now pulling her child away from the President's Aide and sobbing uncontrollably, muttering reassurances into her child's head.

His gaze now travelled to the last body lying on the floor and he felt his own body seize up. The breath was knocked out of his lungs as he recognised the auburn hair spread across the floor.

_Laura. _

The only thought that crossed his mind. He couldn't quite bring his lips to form her name and he rushed over, not paying any attention to the others. He was waiting for a voice to scold him, to tell him to act the Admiral and look at the room and the occupants as a whole, but no voice greeted his stricken mind. This caused him to react, to push past the others, to kneel at her side. She was alive, he shook with relief as he felt a pulse in her delicate wrist. It was thready, however, causing more panic to rise. His façade broke and Adama clutched at Roslin's hand, almost as if willing his own life force to permeate through her skin, to make her wake up in his arms, groggy but nothing more. How much can an already ill woman take?

He placed kisses on the top of her hands, in between muted mutterings.

"Please wake up. Laura you have to wake up. You'll be alright." He then turned towards the marines trailing him, who had their guns drawn, wondering where to point them, "You," he looked pointedly at the marine standing in front, "get Cottle in here _now."_

"Yessir." The marine saluted and sprinted out of the hatch.

"Bill?"

The voice was quiet, confused and worried. It was the voice of Saul Tigh. Bill felt his eyes reluctantly turn towards his best friend, but all he could think was; _this frakking cylon could have killed the woman I love._

_But he's your friend, _another voice interrupted, the rational one, _he's been your friend for years. Laura is still beside you breathing and Saul Tigh is in front of you. He needs you. _

"Bill I haven't known for-" Tigh's voice stopped, choking on what he was saying, what he was finally admitting, "-I wanted to tell you, but I was a coward. I'm a Cylon, Bill," he paused, waiting for the surprise. It didn't come, so he continued, "and I deserve to be thrown out the airlock for lying to you. I've been lying since day one, it's just taken me this long to realise it."

William Adama's intense gaze was directed at Saul Tigh and he now knew why the crew both revered and feared the Old Man. The look was anger, hatred, repulsion, but it was also compassion and betrayal. Saul Tigh had never felt so guilty, so bad. He felt like a child confessing to stealing the last cookie. _He must have been a frakking amazing father when Lee and Zak were little, _he thought to himself, awaiting Adama's verdict.

There was silence, before Bill's strong voice cut across the room, leaving no room for questioning.

"Throw him in the brig."

Tigh looked shocked, having already resigned himself to a death sentence.

"Bill I-"

Adama cut him off midsentence however, his eyes travelling over to Tory, "and her." His tone was final and the marines moved forwards as a group. Both Tory and Tigh went willingly, their hands clasped behind their backs, their backs straight with the shred of dignity they had left.

Minutes slowly ticked by, and Adama's attention had returned to the woman lying down. There was blood slowly seeping from her side, and he clutched desperately at her jacket, ripping it open. He pushed his hands against the small wound, desperately trying to stop any more blood from leaking out onto the already stained floor. He was so preoccupied with her injury that he failed to notice the tears tracing their way down his cheeks. Tears for Laura, tears for Saul, tears for Sharon and Hera, tears of anger and worry. He let them flow freely, dripping steadily against Laura's blouse. He also failed to notice his rampant mutterings, his desperate pleas to her and to the Gods.

"Please Laura, please be alright! I need you, I love you. Don't go Laura. Lords of Kobol hear my prayer …"

The only sounds heard in the room were the sniffling coming from Hera and the mutterings of Adama, occasionally broken by his sobs.

**A/N**

**Well I hope this update was quick enough for you all. Thankyou for the reviews! I'm glad that my story is liked and a big thanks to Redd! I read your review and it made my day, thank-you! Next chapter up soon. **


	29. All of This Has Happened Before

**Authors Note**

**Hello all! Here is the next chapter in the saga that is "So Say We All". Sorry, but there is jumping around to come and not the cool "oh look the Cylons, JUMP!" kind of jump … I have a lot of threads in this story, so prepare for a bumpy ride. For all those who wanted to know what happened to Caprica Six, read on. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters what-so-ever, so please don't sue. If you're still keen on suing me, then do it over the story that you think is the best. Leave me a little bit of ego as I go to prison.**

**Anastacia Dualla's Quarters**

**Battlestar Galactica**

Dee moved around her quarters, humming to herself as she went. It was a strange tune, yet familiar. She suspected she must have heard it in CIC, or somewhere on the ship that she makes frequent visits. It was a catchy tune.

Moving to her desk, Dee started to pile the files and folders that had been brought to her a few moments ago. They were haphazardly strewn on the table, as she had no intention of reading all the communication logs tonight. There had been too many calls in the last few days and she was meant to be relaxing, not working.

Relaxing, however, was far from what she was doing right now anyway. Nicky started to cry softly in his cot and Dee sighed. _It's going to be a long day, _she decided, moving over to the boy. Cally had asked her to look after him while she was on this new shift rotation and Dee thought it may be the perfect opportunity to help her bond with her new roommate more. She had jumped at the chance of helping out, and found herself on the verge of tearing her hair out. Nicky was more trouble than Cally had her believe. He refused to sleep, refused to eat, refused to play. She didn't know what to do anymore. Finally, when Nicky had closed his eyes, Dee moved towards the couch hoping for a rest. Five minutes later, the screaming started.

"Nicky, shhh, Nicky, please go to sleep." Desperation laced her tired voice and she willed him to just close his eyes and to settle peacefully into a slumber. He, once again, refused. Instead, he decided it would be best if he wailed louder, causing Dee to wince as her eardrums vibrated.

"Frak," she groaned, placing Nicky down again. She realised what she had said, and quickly covered her mouth in a panic. Cally would kill her if he repeated that word, "Frap, Nicky, I said Frap ok? If mummy asks, what did I say?"

Nicky stopped crying for a second, just staring up at Dee and smiling wickedly.

"Yes, that's right," Dee cooed, smiling gently, "you say nothing at all."

Nicky started to cry again. The noise echoed around the quarters and Dee almost missed the faint knocking at her hatch door. Had it not been for a hitch in amongst his tears, she would have completely missed it. Moving towards the door slowly, Dee opened it and found herself face to face with a man.

"Oh," Dee said, surprised at the visitor, "hey Chief. Cally didn't say anything about you coming by."

"No, she didn't." Tyrol automatically replied. Dee glanced down and saw his hands tightening into a fist. Her reactions were too slow. Before she could make a noise, Dee found herself knocked back onto the floor of her quarters, blood spurting from her nose and her arm throbbing in pain.

"I would like to see my son please." Tyrol stated, towering above her. He closed the hatch behind him.

**CIC**

**Battlestar Galactica**

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

The sounds from CIC were muffled. Helo stood stiffly at the main table, standing in for the cranky XO. He rubbed his face wearily and sighed. Everything was peaceful around him, the reassuring noises of a clear Dradis surrounding him. The crew in the CIC stood back from Helo, muttering to themselves and checking the computer logs. It was just another lazy day on the Battlestar. _If a lazy day is ever possible within a ragtag fleet on the run from Cylons, _Helo thought to himself, laughing inwardly.

There had been no appearances from the 'bad' Cylons for days now. The basestar containing D'anna drifted lazily above them, every so often requiring a secure line, no doubt for the number three to taunt them with knowledge. It had been a while since Helo had last seen the Admiral. He had confused the young man, calling for armed marines and running out of CIC. Something serious must have happened, but Helo couldn't think what.

_Four more hours and I can get back to Sharon, _he thought wearily, regarding the console in front of him. Suddenly, his head shot up at a sudden beeping noise. The Dradis Console was going crazy, with numerous red dots appearing and flashing dangerously.

"Sir!"Gaeta's voice cut through the heavy silence as everyone looked on in surprise, "we have Dradis Contact. I'm counting 4-no 5 Basestars sir! Course of action!?"

All eyes rested on Helo, the stand in XO. He sighed inwardly and picked up the comm. in front. _Sharon is going to have to wait a little longer. _

With that thought, he started to speak urgently;

"Admiral Adama to CIC. Admiral Adama report immediately to CIC. Set condition one throughout the ship."

**Agathon's Quarters**

**Battlestar Galactica**

Cottle rushed in, med-kit at the ready and a nurse and stretcher at his tail. He stepped over the cylon model that lay dead on the floor, feeling a pang of sympathy for it. _No-one deserves to die in such a terrible way_. He calloused himself to it, however, and concentrated on the target. Laura Roslin lay on the floor, a small pool of blood around her waist area. Cottle noted that Admiral Adama had not left her side, clutching her hands and whispering to her.

"If you want her to live Admiral, then shift." Cottle stated dryly, flapping his hands to indicate that the man holding her should move away. Adama glared at him, but acquiesced, slowly standing up and moving so Cottle could get through.

The doctor examined the wound, prodding and gently massaging the skin around it. His eyes narrowed in concentration and Adama could see him glance towards the Cylon body nearby, and suddenly his eyes lit up with realisation.

"Get her on the stretcher. Bandage that until we get to Lifestation," Cottle ordered, starting to stand back up. Ishay moved forwards quickly and placed padding over the cut in Laura's side, "and for fraks sake will someone get me a godsdamn cigarette!?"

A marine pushed forward sheepishly and offered him one, which Cottle accepted gratefully. With gentle hands, Adama helped the marines pull the unconscious body of Laura Roslin onto a stretcher, and watched helplessly as she was wheeled out of the hatch. Silence reigned for a few minutes, with Adama staring at the patch of blood on the floor and Cottle gazing curiously at the Cylon body.

"Is she going to be alright?"

Adama's voice cut through the silence, and the two men looked at eachother with serious expressions. Sharon sat on her bed, still holding Hera tight, but listening intently to the conversation. The two men seemed to have forgotten she was there.

"Hopefully she'll be fine." Cottle assured him, searching his top pocket for a lighter. Adama slowly moved over and took the cigarette out of the doctor's mouth.

"These are living quarters," he stated, finally acknowledging Sharon's presence with a nod of his head in her direction, "for a child. Don't do it."

Cottle frowned, looking annoyed. Adama thought he was going to verbally attack him, stating that Adama had no control or authority over him. However, that thought disappeared when he saw a smile break out on Cottle's face.

"It's about time I quit anyway." he replied, taking hold of the cigarette once more and placing it in his pocket.

"She'll be fine," Adama repeated Cottle's line about Roslin to himself, before asking, "What's wrong with her?"

"Bullet wound."

"Bullet wound?"

"My theory is, the bullet came at her and this Cylon here," he pointed down at the body of Caprica Six, whose eyes were still wide open, "jumped in the way. The bullet went straight through her, killing her instantly. It passed through her and caught Roslin's side."

When he had finished explaining, Cottle moved forwards and gently knelt down beside the Six. He pushed his fingers onto her eyelids and closed them slowly. Adama watched this with interest. Even Cottle had compassion for these _things. _He wondered briefly whether he had to save many Cylon's lives on New Caprica, but didn't ask. His thoughts were with Laura at the moment, and with the Cylons that now resided in his brig.

"_Admiral Adama to CIC. Admiral Adama report immediately to CIC. Set condition one throughout the ship."_

The voice permeated through the ships, echoing through the hatch and into the quarters. Helo was obviously on his own up there, Adama realised. Must be Dradis contact. The Admiral stood stiffly, torn between going to Life Station and going straight to CIC. He knew that this decision should be easy. Nothing should come between the Admiral and CIC, but Bill briefly wondered what Laura would say, waking up in Life Station on her own, alone. Cottle seemed to sense where his thoughts were heading and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"She'd kill you for not going to CIC," Cottle stated gruffly, "and then she'd get upset over killing you and she would probably be a pain in the arse after that, so if I were you Admiral, I'd give her no reason to exercise her adept skill of airlocking."

Adama smiled, murmuring;

"I'm sure you'd grieve me."

"You'd be lucky. Now get going!"

"Doctor." Adama nodded towards him and exited the quarters rapidly, leaving Cottle in his wake, shaking his head, an amused smile on his face.

"Frakking leaders. Why do we have to have two? I hate democracies …"

**A/N**

**Thankyou to everyone for the reviews! I woke up this morning and my computer screamed "10 new messages" at me, how I love it when it does that! Glad you're all enjoying it and thankyou for pointing out the mistakes, I'll try my best to prevent them in later chapters!**


	30. Big Decisions

**Authors Note**

**Next chapter now! Wow chapter 30! I'm proud of my attention span. When it comes to BSG, it seems I can keep my attention focused. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters what-so-ever, so please don't sue. If you're still keen on suing me, then do it over the story that you think is the best. Leave me a little bit of ego as I go to prison.**

**Anastacia Dualla's Quarters**

**Battlestar Galactica**

_It doesn't matter anymore, _Tyrol thought to himself as he looked down at the crumpled body in front of him, _nothing does anymore. _He briefly wondered whether it was the programming talking or his own conscience.

Galen Tyrol was tired. He was tired of the endless shifts, the constant noise, the worry as each bird flew away from the confines of Galactica, the crushing guilt that his own wife didn't know him like she was supposed to, the anger at the injustice of it all. He didn't want this life and he looked at Dee's body with jealousy. It had been quick, easy. Tyrol didn't fight it; he just let the waves of remorse roll over him as her breathing slowly stopped. She was resting now, with the Gods, and he wanted to aswell. He wanted to move on, to go, to share his stories with those who died on Caprica, have a drink with old friends.

It was merely a dream however. He couldn't do it, not now. He had a mission to accomplish and he couldn't quit, couldn't give up until it was done. Moving slowly over the body, Tyrol found his hands leaning against a cot. It was small and nowhere near luxurious, but when you're on a ship fighting for survival, beggars can't be choosers. Nicky had quieted down, looking at the scene around him as it played out. The boy couldn't grasp what was going on, and Tyrol was glad for that. He would never have to grow up, knowing what his father had done, what he _was._

"Hey Nicky," Tyrol murmured, grunting with effort to pick the boy up. He hadn't seen him in so long, ever since Cally had left him. It wasn't that she refused to let him see his son, it was the constant work that had taken him away, "c'mon now. Come to daddy."

Nicky gurgled with happiness, recognising the soothing deep voice of his father and feeling strong warm arms wrap around him. Tyrol smiled gently at the boy in his arms, humming softly and swaying him.

"Not much time now, Nicky," He stated, his eyes focused on the hatch, "not much time at all."

Nicky started to cry.

**Small Arms Locker 3#**

**Battlestar Galactica**

Pain ripped through Kara's side, causing bile to rise in her throat and threaten to spill onto the floor in front. She very slowly eased the medical kit off of its hook attaching it to the bulkhead, and felt her vision once again fade out. Her grip faltered and from somewhere in the back of her mind, Kara heard the 'clang' as the medical kit hit the deck, spilling its contents everywhere.

"Frak me." she hissed, a bead of sweat slowly trailing down her neck and disappearing underneath her tanks. The impromptu run she had just finished was starting to catch up with her now, sharp pains like needles ripping through her stomach, blurred vision, throbbing headache. She had exited Sharon's quarters as quickly as possible, not wishing to be subjected to Cottle's rants and an extended stay in Life Station. _Maybe permanent, _her thoughts were dark as she gritted her teeth and looked at the gaping wound in her side.

It wasn't the sort of wound that could be shrugged off and healed quickly. It was going to be a slow and arduous process, resulting in extremely dire consequences. She wouldn't be able to fly again in a raptor, that's for sure, and no way was Kara going to be made to fly a Raptor for the rest of her life. Starbuck wouldn't allow it. She had stumbled out of the quarters carrying these thoughts, along with the lead weight of the bullet she could feel nestling inside her flesh. Being left at the whim of nurses in Life Station did not suit Kara, did not make her happy. So she ran from the chance of being healed. Exerting strength and a pain threshold she didn't know she had, Kara had pushed herself through the hatch into a small-arms locker, searching desperately for a way to cover the wound. For now.

She dropped to her knees with a grunt of pain, in front of the medical kit's supplies, her hands diving in and quickly rooting through what was available. She tried valiantly to take her mind off of the pain.

"C'mon," she muttered, licking her dry, cracked lips hurriedly as her shaking hands searched for a bandage or pad of some sort, "you gotta be around here somewhere you frakker. Take your mind off the pain, 'cause it's all in your head. Just switch it off and - aha!"

She smiled slightly in triumph as she found what she was looking for, her hands curling around a white pad. Picking it up slowly with one hand, Kara gently lifted the bottom of her tanks, which now clung to her, soaked through with a culmination of sweat and blood. It was agony to prise the material and her skin apart, and she bit her lip to stifle a cry as the fabric slowly detached itself from her wound.

"Ok, ok." Kara sighed, letting out a long ragged breath as the tanks pulled away. She then proceeded to slowly and hesitantly place the pad on the wound, sealing it off from the air around her. Her eyes watered the material slowly soaked up the blood, and she let a groan slip from between her lips.

She winced at the contact of the pad, and slowly shimmied herself backwards, until she was resting against the bulkhead behind, legs spread out on front of her. Kara sat there for a few moments, trying in vain to regain control of her rapid breathing and recollect her jumbled thoughts.

_3 bullets._

3 bullets had been fired, spread around the quarters.

"7 people in the room and one child," she said out loud, laughing inwardly at the odds of her being struck with one of those bullets, "3 bullets and 7 people, one child."

_Who else had been hit? _She wondered, closing her eyes tight as the pain started to spread. _2 bullets came from Anders. 1 bullet came from Tigh. _She pushed away the sense of betrayal, the downright disbelief that Anders could do such a thing, that he could be what she had fought to hate for so long.

"What is it with frakking Cylons and me?" She started to laugh, but it soon turned into coughing, which continued to rip apart the wound in her stomach, causing the pad to turn a deeper red, "they just can't get enough. Leoben, Anders …. I'm a toaster magnet …"

She had been struck with one bullet, and she assumed that Tigh had shot Anders. Kara felt no regret, no anger at the thought of Anders lying on the floor, bleeding out slowly. It was no more than he deserved. She had loved him once, back before New Caprica. Now, whenever she thought of him, Kara felt a hollowness, a feeling of detachment.

Assuming that Anders had been hit, that now left one errant bullet. Who was it embedded in now? There was no echoing sound, no noise of contact that suggested it had missed someone and hit the bulkhead. It had definitely made contact, but with who?

_Please don't let it be the President, _she thought desperately, _or Tigh. The Old Man wouldn't be able to handle it, the loss of either of them. _Tigh, his best friend for over 30 years and Roslin, his … _well no-one is that stupid, _she thought wryly, _the whole crew know how much they mean to eachother._

Kara was under no illusion that she was going to get through this injury fine. She had prepared herself mentally for the worst. Kara accepted her fate, as she sat up against the bulkhead, her short hair clinging to the sweat on her skin. Starbuck, however, couldn't accept it. Starbuck didn't want to die, sitting on the floor in a small arms locker. She wanted to get out of there. Fly one last time, take out a few of those evil frakkers before she succumbed to pain, to death.

"_Admiral Adama to CIC. Admiral Adama report immediately to CIC. Set condition one throughout the ship."_

Kara's ears faintly picked up the voice. It was Helo and he sounded desperate. Her head shot up in realisation. Starbuck was going to get her chance after all. There must be dradis contact. Looking around quickly, Kara noted that opposite her on the shelf was a box of explosives and a detonator.

Gritting her teeth in pain, she pushed herself forwards, slowly bringing herself onto her knees. Kara stilled, willing her body to cooperate.

"You're not going to die here, c'mon."

Her feet seemed to listen, pushing her body upwards. Gripping the shelf opposite for balance, she leaned forwards and grasped the box, tearing the lid off with all the energy she could muster. Sniffing and wiping the sweat from her brow, Kara then shakily picked up a couple of the explosives and detonators, being careful not to drop them. She dropped them in her pocket and propelled herself from the shelf towards the hatch she had entered previously.

_Starbuck was going to go out in a blaze._

**CIC**

**Battlestar Galactica**

"Sitrep!" Admiral Adama commanded, walking swiftly up to the centre table.

"5 Cylon basestars sir." Helo told him automatically, his hands gripping the table in front, his knuckles white. Looking at the Admiral, Helo noticed blood covering his hands. Something very serious must have occurred.

"Hoshi!" Adama barked, turning towards a man sitting at a computer.

"Sir?" Hoshi replied, looking towards the Admiral for orders.

"Charge up main firing batteries and have them directed at the enemy."

"Unable to comply sir."

Adama turned quickly, fire burning in his eyes. Hoshi's comment fuelled the anger he was feeling at the moment, "Why not!?"

"Sir, the Rebel Basestar is in our firing solution. It's been slowly moving there since the enemy first appeared on Dradis. To fire our main batteries would take down their ship."

"What the _frak _are they playing at!?" Adama shouted, glaring intensely around him. His crew avoided eye contact, busying themselves at their stations. He was beyond angry.

"Helo!" He turned towards the man next to him, who tried his best not flinch at the coldness behind his order.

"Sir?"

"Send out emergency Vipers and get me a line to the Cylon Basestar right this frakking minute!"

"Yes sir."

**A/N**

**Well there you go! That's chapter 30 up and done! Chapter 31 should be on it's way soon! Hope you're enjoying it!**


	31. We All Bleed

**Author's Note**

**Sorry I haven't updated in about a week, but I've had lots of things keeping me occupied, including looking at University Prospectuses … shudders**

**However, here is the next chapter and I really hope you're enjoying this story so far, because it sure as hell keeps me happy writing it! Quick fix before you read this chapter:**

**In the last chapter, where it says "She wouldn't be able to fly again in a raptor, that's for sure", it's meant to say "viper" instead of "raptor". Sorry for mixing the two up, now on with the show!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters what-so-ever, so please don't sue. If you're still keen on suing me, then do it over the story that you think is the best. Leave me a little bit of ego as I go to prison.**

**Anastacia Dualla's Quarters**

**Battlestar Galactica**

_Get IN there Cally. _Her thoughts were pushing her, pleading for her to step through the hatch, into her temporary quarters. Cally was scared, however. She had followed Tyrol through the entire battlestar, keeping a distance between them both so as not to be spotted. Judging by the way he moved, the way he acted, however, Cally was sure that sidling up to him and slapping him would not have got him to recognise her. Her hand reached out towards the wheel and she placed it softly on top, steeling herself.

_You're not the same Cally you were a few years ago. Buck up! This isn't just about wanting to pay for dental school, this is YOUR child and your friend in there with him. _A small part of Cally was reassuring her, telling her that Tyrol would obviously not want to harm their own child. Maybe he was just going to see Nicky? It _had _been a long time after all …

… _And maybe Baltar is a great guy, _her other thoughts pushed in again, sarcastically. Cally bit her lip and pushed the hatch open slowly, bracing herself for the scene before her.

Tyrol was holding Nicky, humming softly to him. He either didn't notice or didn't care that Cally entered the quarters. His back was to the door, and his head bent, focused intently on his son.

"Galen?" She used his first name, trying to slowly bring his focus around to her, to recognise her. She didn't want him to make any abrupt movements, not when he had her son in his arms.

"Cally …" Tyrol murmured, his back still turned to her. Shifting Nicky around in his arms, Galen slowly turned around, facing her. There was no recognition in his eyes though he said her name, and Cally had to suppress a shudder that threatened to overtake her. There was nothing, no hint of emotion, no hint of personality behind his eyes. It was as if his soul had abandoned him, leaving just the empty shell moving, looking at her.

"Yeah, it's me. Where's Dee?" Cally enquired, confused as to the apparent absence of Dualla. She was meant to be babysitting Nicky, and yet here stood Tyrol clutching the child to him and no sign of her. _He couldn't of-_

"She got in the way." Tyrol stated casually, a hint of a smile playing at his mouth. Something about that sentence caused alarm bells to ring in Cally's head and she quickly gave the room a searching look. There was nobody else in the room, dead or otherwise incapacitated. She hoped this to be a good sign, a sign that Dee was alive, but maybe locked somewhere. _Please don't let her be dead, _she pleaded inwardly. She wouldn't be able to live with the crushing guilt, having imposed on the young Petty Officer only to be the cause of her death.

"Put Nicky down." Cally warned softly, her arms rising slowly in front of her, to show him that she couldn't harm him. Tyrol just shook his head at her actions, and lightly kissed Nicky's head, before steadily replying;

"You know I can't do that." His voice was low, almost a whisper, a prayer.

"Put him down Chief." Cally's voice held thick traces of worry and desperation. He didn't look as if he was going to listen to her reasoning to him on a personal level any time soon, so she tried a more professional tact. Maybe he'd recognise his job title, anything. Whatever was wrong with him, it wasn't going to stop if she just stood by and talked to him as if he was just her ex-husband. She tried to appeal to his honour, his duty.

"He's the shape of things to come," Tyrol muttered softly, once again ignoring his ex-wife and solely concentrating on the boy in his arms. There was an aura about him, both menacing and dangerous, "both must perish, for Cylons and for humans. Neither can live to exist and-"

"Stop it! Stop it Galen!" tears of anger and worry slowly leaked out of Cally's eyes as she screamed at the man in front of her. He seemed not to hear her, carrying on his words as Cally cried.

"The Final Five are forced to decide, forced to accept their fates. I must accept my fate. I will die at the hands of my brother or aid in the greater picture. Purity amongst the races must be fought for, and no Hybrid can exist-"

"Frak you!! You frakking skin job!! Frakking son of a bitch!! How dare you!! How _could _you even think about doing it!?" Cally's throat burned as the pent up anger was released, words flowing from her mouth. He was going to try and kill their son! He was a cylon! It was all too much, and yet the same thought ran through her head; _Protect Nicky, now!_

Gathering up her courage, Cally surged forwards, trying to grapple Tyrol's wrists. He saw this manoeuvre, however, and surged his shoulder into her oncoming body, sending her sprawling to the floor. Cally wouldn't give up though, she wasn't a quitter. Pulling herself up roughly, she tried again, this time catching him off guard.

Tyrol fell back slightly, still clutching Nicky in his arms tightly. Pulling a hand free, he grabbed Cally by the throat, hoisting her up slightly, leaving her unable to fight back, her hands desperately clawing at the back of his own, struggling to breathe.

"Don't interfere with God's will." Tyrol stated, his teeth gritted together with anger.

"Please …." Cally gasped, fighting the battle to stay conscious, "….kill me …. Just don't kill him …. Please ….Galen …. Don't ….."

_Was it the desperate plea from the mother, or the use of his name in the sentence? It might have been the realisation of the crime he was about to commit, _Cally wondered all of this in the brief space of a few seconds as Tyrol lurched back, pushing Cally away from him. She fell back and hit the floor again, gasping for air. She could still feel his fingers curling around her neck and she gagged slightly. Pushing her physical reactions aside, Cally brought her gaze to the man in front. His face was shocked, _was that a flicker of emotion in his eyes?_

Everything seemed to slow down around them. Tyrol's eyes met hers and his mouth moved, forming words, echoing around the quarters yet spoken so quietly, so softly that for a moment Cally thought she was imagining them.

"I'm so sorry Cally, so sorry …. Let me do what I have to do-"

He was interrupted, this time not by her though. The hatch behind them slammed open, hitting the wall with a reverberating 'thud'. In stepped two figures, one standing tall and proud, the other slightly shorter but spine straight in duty. Cally couldn't focus, her vision cloudy as she regarded them. One's arm moved upwards quickly, aimed directly at the Chief.

He didn't react, holding Nicky on his right side. The figure with the raised arm was bathed in the light from outside the door, reflecting white.

"I've decided." It spoke, and with that, Cally spotted a gun at the end of the raised arm.

"Yes," Tyrol whispered, smiling slightly, his expression vacant once more.

"No!" Cally screamed, thinking of her child, of her husband, but it was too late. A shot rang out …

**Control Room,**

**Cylon Basestar**

"Impact!" A number Five screamed, before being thrown across the room. The Control Room shook, jolting the Cylons inside of it from side to side. D'anna gripped the console in front of her, trying in vain to keep herself upright. Doral's body hit the floor next to her, a loud 'cracking' indicating he was now dead. D'anna looked down at his body, before carefully stepping over it and over to the next console. Another hit shook the room once more, and she stumbled slightly. A hand caught her, holding her up. When D'anna looked around, she saw Leoben staring at her, smiling slightly. Tugging herself out of his grip, she made her way over to the centre table.

"We're going to get blown up if we stay in this position!" A six warned, from the other side of the room. The computers sent jolts out, malfunctioning slightly. A number Eight jumped back, her hand crackling with the overload of electricity. This was not going well.

"The Ones know all the weaknesses of the Baseship! They're sending out their raiders!"

"D'anna! Admiral Adama is requesting an emergency line with you. What should I tell him!?"

D'anna looked around at the destruction. Multiple bodies lay strewn across the floor, their blood mingling together and slowly spreading. The cylons still alive looked panicked and injured, wondering what they should do. Their commitment, however, never wavered. All were going about their jobs as best they could, looking towards the only Three for orders.

"Tell Admiral Adama," D'anna stated slowly as she looked around, a small smile on her lips, "that we are too busy to take his call at the moment. Eight," she pointed towards the Boomer model who was clutching her hand, now burnt, "I want you to send a heavy raider to the Galactica! Place a Simon aboard and then send out the Raiders, you got that?"

"Right away!" The Eight responded, running out of the room. Another rumble reverberated throughout the ship, sending cylons flying across the room. D'anna was forced to the floor, smacking her head on the console on the way down. When the rumbling stopped, she picked herself up, gripping the console for support.

"Eugh." she groaned, pulling herself to her feet. Raising her fingers to her head, D'anna showed no surprise when they came away with red covering them. She bled. All her people bled. The Cavils would not win this. If they had to protect the humans to stop them, then so be it. She'd rather them reach Earth together without the Cavils, but right now she wasn't fussy. If the humans made it without them, then so be it. All D'anna knew, as she gazed around the room, watching as the cylons picked themselves up once again, was that the Cavils would go no further. It ended right here.

**A/N**

**I'll try and start the next chapter as soon as possible. Hope you liked this chapter! Reviews are more than welcome! Any mistakes, please point them out ... it's the only way i learn hehe!**


	32. Admissions

**Authors Note**

**Ok, so this one is slightly longer than the other chapters so far, but I found that there was no way to edit it to make it any shorter without taking away from the scenes, so I left it. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters what-so-ever, so please don't sue. If you're still keen on suing me, then do it over the story that you think is the best. Leave me a little bit of ego as I go to prison.**

**Life Station**

**Battlestar Galactica**

"Will you please quit fidgeting for fraks sake!?" Cottle asked angrily, pulling the curtains apart to see what the fuss was about. A loud buzzing sound had repeatedly emanated from this particular patient, and Cottle was about two puffs of a cigarette away from putting the button on the other side of the room. It was meant to be used when a patient needed help or was in trouble, but she was abusing it, that much he knew. Once again, Cottle was forced to pull back the curtain and this time he was not going to play nice.

"I need to get out of here," Laura Roslin informed the aging doctor, propping herself against some pillows to keep her sitting, "I need to get to CIC."

"You need to get some godsdamn rest!" Cottle barked in return, pulling a syringe out of his pocket, "don't _make _me give you a sedative!"

"Jack," the use of his first name drew him to a halt. She was looking at him intensely through her glasses, staring him down, "there is a war going on and I need to be in CIC."

"You carry on like this young lady, and the war won't be worth a damn anymore! Now lay back down! You've lost a lot of blood and, although, that bandage is going to hold you for now, you still need to let the skin heal! I'm not stitching you back up if you tear apart on me Madam President."

He used her title to show respect for her, but she was annoying him at this moment in time. She had been in Life Station for a little over an hour, and already she was running the place. He had managed to stop the bleeding and cover the wound, but where any other patient would be asleep, resting, Laura Roslin was wide awake wanting to get out of here.

"I'll ask one more time, let me out of here." Laura stated. She was pale, still feeling the effects of what had happened. She had been in and out since the bullet skimmed her side, both hearing what was said but at the same time not taking it all in. After sitting on the hospital bed for a few minutes, she remembered a voice …. Bill's voice … and then the comm. … she remembered hearing that Admiral Adama was needed urgently in CIC. She drew the conclusion that a Cylon Assault was underway. Why else would he be needed that urgently?

"Oh, now I'm convinced," Cottle retorted sarcastically, "you're staying here whether you like it or not. I'm going to get you a shot of Morpha because I'm not having you in pain," Laura smiled at his gesture to her, "you _not _in pain is bad enough. A shot of Morpha is so much easier than wrestling that button from your grip. Sit tight Madam President."

Laura narrowed her eyes and frowned as Cottle stormed out, leaving the curtain slowly fluttering behind him. Laura pushed herself slowly towards the edge of the bed, grimacing as pain shot through her side. She could handle it. She handled cancer, she handled near death, she was handling it once again. A tiny cut on her side was nothing.

She blindly slipped her shoes on that were placed neatly at the end of her bed. Cottle would be back any minute now, she realised and her movements became a bit more hurried.

"You," she pointed at the guard standing just outside the curtain. The guard stepped inside, concern etched over his face. She felt a small warmth knowing that he genuinely was looking out for her.

"Yes Ma'am?" He saluted.

"Corporal …?"

"Benson, ma'am."

"Corporal Benson," she smiled warmly at him, putting him at ease in her company, "I would like to get out of here to CIC. If you could guide me to the door, it would be most appreciated."

Benson seemed to mull the request over in his head, weighing his options. He needed to do his duty, but was more than sure that if he did as Roslin requested, then he would be on the receiving end of a verbal lashing by both Cottle and the Admiral. If he refused his orders, he'd still get a verbal lashing, but from Roslin instead, and he would lose his job. Mind made up, he offered his arm to the President. She accepted it gratefully and he walked out of Life Station, one small step at a time.

"Right, this should hold you until-" Cottle's words were cut short as he entered back into the curtained off cubicle that the President _had _occupied. He took one, long glance around the area, his mouth open in surprise. She was crazy. He was beyond angry.

Cottle walked quickly over to the phone and picked it up, waiting on the line for a connection to CIC, all the while muttering mutinously to himself. He growled in frustration;

"That woman! That godsdamn stubborn son of a-"

**Corridor**

**Battlestar Galactica**

It had been two hours since he had heard about the gunshots. Lee Adama walked casually through the corridors, his steps guiding him slowly towards where the sounds had apparently emanated from. Few marines walked around him, most of them probably already at the scene. It had been pure luck that had brought him to this spot. Eavesdropping was not one of his usual traits but he couldn't help but overhear when Racetrack was telling every pilot around her what she had heard, what had transpired apparently in the Agathon's Quarters.

Gunshots, screaming … Lee knew that whatever had happened must be serious, and it strengthened his excuse to be onboard the Galactica, aside from wanting to see Kara. Where was she anyway? Kara was expected to be on the Galactica with the President a few hours ago and all the marines and crew he had passed had confirmed that they had seen the duo. According to them though, "_they seemed in a rush. Like they needed to be somewhere fast Mr Adama."_

Lee had snorted at the last part of that comment. _Mr Adama. Mr Lee Adama, Military Advisor. _He had spent so many years being referred to as "Sir" or "Apollo" that he still wasn't used to this overly formal title.

"Where _are _you Kara?" he muttered absently, slowly walking down the next corridor. His prayers were answered, however, when he moved to turn a corner and collided with a fast moving obstacle. His military reflexes kicked in, and Lee thankfully remained balanced, moving his shoulder slightly so the person that hit him stumbled and fell straight onto the floor. The person lay there for a few seconds, their breathing ragged, before Lee recognised who it was. The blonde hair, the tattoo on her arm-

"Oh my Gods Kara, are you alright?" Lee bent over as he heard a groan escape the young woman's lips. Holding out his hand, he felt relief when she gripped it, allowing him to hoist her onto her feet. She was unsteady, her whole body swaying slightly, probably a mixture of head rush and the effect of the impact. Lee unconsciously left his hand on her arm, slowly rubbing it, soothing her.

Kara gritted her teeth slightly, the pain shooting through her. _Damn you Lee, _she thought angrily, but replied with a grunt and "yeah, I'm fine. I just fell funny, that's all." Her hand went immediately to her stomach, pressing softly against the pad stemming the blood flow.

Realising what his hand was doing, Lee dropped his arm to his side, now feeling slightly awkward. _Joke about it, say something funny, _he thought desperately, searching his mind for something humorous to say.

"Wow. The amazing Starbuck goes down with a feather light touch. Remind me to play Pyramid with you sometime."

It worked. At least, he hoped it had. Lee couldn't tell whether she was smiling or wincing. However, his worry soon evaporated when he saw her mouth twitch slowly into a smile, the glitter of amusement appearing in her eyes.

"I don't play with civilians," she told him, "wouldn't want to mess up that pretty suit of yours." The hand not clutching her stomach came up, shakily pointing at his striped, navy suit. Lee laughed at the comment, knowing how ridiculous he must look being dressed up so formally in a suit and tie, compared to when he just use to wear tanks and jogging trousers.

Kara winced again suddenly, feeling a stab of pain. It was getting worse. She couldn't hold out for much longer, and she had so much to do …

Lee seemed to notice her expression, and decided for another joke. Anything to wipe that pained look off of her face.

"Are you sure you just hit the floor? Looks like you fell on a bullet or something."

He was met with a silence, the glint in her eye long gone. Kara forced herself to laugh, the sound making her cringe inwardly. She decided that now would be the best time to change the subject, or else Lee might get slightly suspicious.

"So what are you doing here Lee?"

"Well," Lee was taken aback slightly, not expecting to be asked so directly why he was here. Best to be honest, he decided, "I was looking for you actually … but then I heard about some gunshots …" his look was distracted as he glanced down the corridor. He was only a few corridors away from the Agathon's Quarters.

"Yeah," Kara nodded slightly, reigning Lee's attention back in to her, "there was a slight situation. Some injuries I think-"

"You think?" Lee interrupted her, disbelief etched on his face, "you weren't there? I thought you were always one that was up for a fight Kara."

"Yeah well, gotta retire from them sometime, eh?" she looked around quickly. She needed to go, very soon, "so why were you looking for me?"

"Well, I'm no longer based on this ship now and I just … I miss you … and I wanted to know where we stand with eachother."

"Where we stand with eachother?" Kara raised one of her eyebrows. _Lords please don't say that he's going to rant on about 'us' …_

"Us, Kara. You and me. You can't deny it anymore, what you did with Anders, after you and I slept together, it was …. It broke my heart seeing you with him and every day after that. Godsdamnit Kara what were you thinking!? I loved you. I still do, and to have to have seen you, with _him, _I can't understand why-"

He was cut short, however, as her lips met his. It took a few minutes to register in Lee's brain what was going on. All the while, however, he responded, his hands resting lightly on Kara's back, his eyes closing, pulling her closer …

_Damnit, why does oxygen have to be a necessity? _Kara thought angrily as she pulled away a few minutes afterwards, breathing heavily. It certainly shut Lee up, that was for sure. The glint of confusion and adoration in his eyes spoke volumes to her. She sighed inwardly. _Why am I doing this to him? Why now? I had so many chances and I blew them, and now I finally have the guts, the determination …why now?_

Kara placed her hands gently on the sides of Lee's face and brought his forehead down, so it rested lightly against her own. She should feel his warm breath caress her face gently.

"I love you Lee Adama." She stated, sincerely, boldly. Lee smiled in response, never thinking he'd hear the words uttered from her mouth just seconds ago.

"I love you Kara Thrace." He responded, pulling her close, holding her tight. Kara drew a sharp breath, but Lee didn't notice, still holding her, cradling her in his arms. Slowly, after what seemed like an eternity, Kara pulled away, tears running unabashed down her cheeks. Her heart was beating wildly, her head swimming with the sudden revelations. She was so happy, for just this one moment. Sighing with contentment, Kara pulled Lee's head down once again, this time, her lips meeting his forehead. She planted a soft kiss there, before returning her lips to his. This second kiss was more controlled, chaster, but still flickered with the same intensity, the same passion behind it.

"I need to go Lee." She whispered a few moments later, her head buried in his neck, taking in his scent. Their bodies melded perfectly as they hugged. Lee pulled away as she said it, looking deep into her eyes. Tears still leaked slowly from them, and he did not hesitate to wipe them away with his thumbs.

"I need to go too. I have a quorum meeting in the meeting room in an hour and I've got to have a shower." His admission of haste didn't break them apart however. Kara sighed and rested her head against this shoulder, her body pressed into his. The warmth was comforting, the strength and love he emanated was soothing.

"My fathers quarters are a few levels up," he murmured into her hair, "I really need to go now or I won't have time."

"Yeah," Kara replied, equally as soft, "there is somewhere I need to be and I don't think it can wait much longer." Her heart plunged at the thought and she felt new tears build up.

"I'll talk to you later ok?"

Kara just nodded slightly, her thoughts distracting her. Lee gave her one last kiss on the forehead, before slowly moving away, breaking all contact between them. It was cold now, Kara and Lee both felt it. As he walked away slowly, he heard Kara call out from behind him;

"I love you Lee. Never forget that."

He turned around, a smile gracing his features.

"I love you too Kara, never forget _that._"

She gave him a radiant smile before turning around, and jogging awkwardly down the corridor. Lee didn't ponder on her running, just smiled and walked down the corridor. He loved Kara, and she loved him. Nothing could dampen his mood now.

**A/N**

**I'm sorry if Lee, Kara, Laura or Cottle seem at all out of character. I tried my best at an L/K scene but I'm more adept at A/R ones, so it was a first attempt at their characters interacting together in a romantic way. Reviews are more than welcome, and please do tell me if I've made any mistakes, it's how I learn. **


	33. To See The Face Of God

**Authors Note**

**Ok this is the next chapter and a big thankyou to Mikki once again for the motivation. I hope you all appreciate her, because otherwise this story would be on like chapter 5 still or something! Thankyou to those who are remaining loyal to and following this story, and thankyou to everyone who is reading it.**

**Disclaimer : I do not own any of these characters or locations what-so-ever, they all belong to Ronald D Moore, and so I hope I do not infringe on copyright. I love you RDM, you're such a little A/R shipper!!**

**Hangar Bay 1#**

**Battlestar Galactica**

_You know what you need to do Kara._

That voice. Kara recognised that voice. The familiar tone, the soothing and caressing of the words, as if they mean more than any others. He had that way, that silky smooth way of making everything meld together so perfectly. He had that certain quality about him, making Kara feel so special, so free, so immersed in her own destiny that she didn't question what she needed to do. She just did it, without fear.

"Lords of Kobol, this is just what I need." Kara muttered, grinding her teeth together in agony. She shouldn't be walking. By medical standards, she shouldn't even be alive. The bullet cradled in her side was beyond painful, and the amount of blood she had lost … why was she still walking?

_You're walking because this is your destiny Kara. You knew it the first time, and you know it again. _

"Yeah, yeah, all of this has happened before … I've _heard _this all before." She murmured in reply, a sickly smile gracing her features, "oh gods." A sharp pain shot through her, setting her nerves on fire, "ok, note to self, never move that muscle again."

She subtly moved around the deck, her hand protectively placed on her wound. As crew members rushed by, they didn't even bother to glance at the lone pilot, too fixated on getting the birds into the tubes for the fight. This suited Kara fine, as she was not looking for attention.

She pushed herself forwards, keeping her footsteps even so she didn't stumble. She didn't have long now. Miracles could only occur so often before they became cheap tricks. A sense of urgency shot through her, and Kara moved quickly towards a raptor on the far side of the hangar bay. It was grounded, as raptors weren't needed in this fight. Luck was on her side.

"Hey!" She called out to the nearest knuckledragger, who stopped immediately in his tracks, "a little help over here!? I need this Raptor cleared for launch right now! Move!" the extra added pain that was in her side was vocalised as she screamed angrily at the deckhand. He nodded quickly, and consulted the computer near the raptor.

After a few quick hits of the keypad, the deckhand responded, "its all clear for launch Sir, good luck!"

"About time!" she replied, stepping slowly but surely into the raptor and closing the door to it. The noise from outside was silenced immediately, leaving an eerie silence, broken by a voice. That same godsdamn voice.

_Hurry Kara. You're so close now. You're a stone in the stream. Your destiny will make a significant difference, for everyone. The ripples of your fall will echo long after you immerse yourself in the water. But you must hurry._

"Gods not this river again!" Kara spoke bluntly, her words thick with sarcasm and anger. Leoben had frakked up her mind. Ever since she first met him and had to watch him go out the airlock, there was something between them. A bond. It wasn't love, Kara snorted derisively at the thought. It was something else, much deeper. He was always there, just on the edge of her conscious thoughts. He knew her pain, her suffering, he soothed it from her.

A jolt caused Kara to stagger forwards, and she fell into the small chair at the back of the raptor. A medical kit was concealed just beneath the seats at the back, for emergencies. Holding her breath, Kara quickly leant down and pulled the kit out, gritting her teeth in pain as she did so. Sweat started to bead her forehead again, but Kara didn't care. She pushed herself to the front seat as she felt the raptor move beneath her. The knuckledraggers outside must be pushing it towards the designated spot, for take-off. She used this time to slowly peel away the now soaked bandages and pad, before redressing the wound. It was painful, but Kara pushed past it, and she successfully secured the bandage.

The raptor stopped suddenly, and silence reigned. She was alone at the spot. The comm. buzzed and she clicked the button, answering it.

_"Do you have the ball?"_

"I have the ball, I repeat, I have the ball. Starbuck out."

A grimace passed her lips, but Kara focused on her destination. Hitting the switches, the raptor slowly left the confines of the Galactica and moved swiftly through the encompassing darkness of space.

**Anastacia Dualla's Quarters**

**Battlestar Galactica**

He felt no pain. There was no agony tearing through him, no overwhelming sense of foreboding, no white light to greet him. He couldn't hear anything except his own rapid heart beat. It was betraying him, pumping blood from his body, out of the hole in his chest. It was as if time has stopped. Looking around, Tyrol could only watch helplessly as one of the two figures by the door ran forwards, collecting the child from his arms. Tyrol was reluctant to let go, but the force and will to fight left him. His arms were tired, so tired now. His eyes narrowed in concentration, trying to see the face of the figure before him. Could he be the final one?

_Focus Galen! _A voice in his head snapped and Tyrol returned his focus to the figure. The face was soft, the eyes bright with intelligence and wisdom. There was a haunted look there, indicating the trials they had been put through. Recognition flashed through Tyrol like an electric shock.

_Baltar. _

"You …" he tried to talk, but found the words die on his lips. Baltar looked at him, eyes wide open in alarm, clutching Nicky protectively in his arms. Baltar couldn't have-

Tyrol's eyes moved slowly, purposefully towards the other figure by the door. They hadn't dropped their gun. _It was them. They were the final one. Could've had it all, but lost it. Lost it because of that one. It's ok Tyrol, you did what you could. Nothing less._

His mind was starting to turn sluggish and the black shadow surrounding the figure could not be penetrated by his sight. In fact, everything around him was darkening. His breathing was getting slower, and Tyrol felt his body yearn to succumb to the peace. Somewhere in the physical world, he dropped to his knees, before slowly falling down onto his back.

"Cally." He whispered, sensing a small woman overhead. A hand touched his cheek, scraping gently across the stubble.

"Shhh Chief." It was Cally. Cally was talking to him. His wife, Cally, was with him, holding him. Tyrol smiled faintly, a feeling of warmth seeping through, defying his body that grew clammy and cold.

"I … I had to do it Cally." His voice grew quieter, his breathing more shallow. So close to the end now.

"I forgive you." Tears rolled down Cally's cheeks, splashing and echoing onto Tyrol's neck. He didn't seem to notice, his eyes focused on the ceiling above him. A flash, a light greeted him. He hadn't time to repent, but he was forgiven. All these years, of defying the Gods, defying belief in them, and he saw it now, so clearly …

"He's here." Tyrol stuttered, gripping onto Cally with one of his shaking hands, "So wonderful Cally. He will protect me."

His grip slackened suddenly, and his breathing slowed to a halt. Silence greeted the room, and Cally knew. Galen Tyrol was gone. Standing up slowly, she wiped the tears away, trying to remain strong. It didn't work, however, and she gave up trying, letting the sobs wrack her body. A hand gently touched her shoulder, and offered Cally her child. Taking him slowly, she wept, rocking Nicky back and forth.

Baltar slowly exited the quarters, feeling uncomfortable and useless. Maybe he would be more helpful somewhere else. He walked quickly down the corridor, leaving Tom Zarek in his wake, slowly placing a gun back under his jacket.

**CIC**

**Battlestar Galactica**

"Sitrep!" Adama shouted, coughing slightly from the last impact. The lights flickered, leaving them all enclosed in darkness for a second. The last hit had caused some damage, and fires were being reported throughout the ship, even with the Basestar protecting them. The Admiral remained calm however. It would take a lot more than that for him to start to worry about it.

"Sir!" A voice called out from behind him. Turning around quickly, Adama noticed an absence. Dualla was meant to have been in CIC a few minutes ago. It wasn't ever like her to be late. Hoshi stood directly behind him, listening intently into his head set, "Doctor Cottle wants to speak to you sir. He says it's quite urgent."

Adama nodded in reply, and picked up the receiver before him, on the console.

"Adama, go."

"Admiral, you tell Laura Roslin to get her butt here back now or else I'll-"

"You're not making any sense."

"Our esteemed President seems to have decided all by herself that she is no longer in need of medical help. She said something about heading towards CIC before she left."

"Well she's not here. How long ago did you lose her!?" Adama's mind raced through so many thoughts. Morbid images threatened to appear, but he held them back. _She will be fine,_ Adama told himself, scolding his thoughts for turning so dark.

"About ten minutes ago! I've been trying to get a hold of you, but the lines keep going dead!"

"Ten minutes? She might still be on her way."

"Well if you see her, tell her to get her frakking arse back here or so help me I'll-"

Adama hung up quickly, before turning towards a marine stationed at the door.

"I want you to go find Corporal Venner," he stated, to which the marine nodded in reply, "and I then want you both to search all routes from Sick Bay to CIC. I want you to find President Roslin and escort her straight here. She would be too stubborn to go back to Life Station."

The marine nodded and exited quickly, heading towards the brig, where Corporal Venner was now stationed.

**A/N**

**Well I hope you're enjoying it. Next chapter up sometime soon, I'm trying my best – really!**


	34. In The Midst Of Battle

**Authors Note**

**First of all, thanks to Mikki for kicking me in the butt for motivation to get this chapter up! I'm sorry it's taken so long, but this week has been semi-hectic, so I was writing little notes about it in my notepad instead of typing. **

**I would like to apologise if anyone is confused by my story at all. If there is something you do not understand, please do message me and ask – I'll try my very best to explain. My story is probably a weird one, I understand. **

**With that out of the way, on with the show!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters what-so-ever, so please don't sue. If you're still keen on suing me, then do it over the story that you think is the best. Leave me a little bit of ego as I go to prison.**

**Colonial Raptor,**

**Halfway between Galactica & Enemy Vessel**

"C'mon you mother-frakker," Kara whispered faintly, her eyes closed slightly. She clutched the injection pen tightly in her hand, willing the Morpha to act quickly, "please help me…"

She didn't have long left at all, but Kara hoped for her sake and the sake of the Fleet that the Morpha lasted long enough for her to achieve her aim, or else they were all royally screwed. Galactica was outnumbered. There were too many enemy basestars to count, all bunched together, floating calmly, untouched.

_A calm enemy is a deadly one. _

That thought, drilled into all potential nuggets heads back at the Caprica academy, kept Kara's head in the game at this moment in time. She had to be able to outwit this vastly superior force, it was resting on her. _Not that the Old Man knows it yet, _she thought to herself, _he is probably trying to think up tactics right now. Probably putting enough forces out there to give the rest of the Fleet a chance to jump. _It wouldn't work of course.

The basestars were too close, had too many Raiders. It was going to be a bloodbath for the Colonial fleet, unless anyone acted right now. Kara sat lazily in the chair, her body relaxing. She let a sigh of relief escape her lips as she felt the cool numbness of the Morpha taking effect. It should last her just long enough. If there was one thing she didn't need, it was the pain of her wound at a time when she needed full concentration.

The comm. in front of her crackled for a minute, the static causing her ears to ring. Maybe someone was trying to contact her? After all, she wasn't supposed to be sitting here in a raptor. The thought soon vanished, however, when Hotdog's voice came over it;

"_Galactica this is Hotdog! Frakking toasters took down Sandman!"_

"Frak!" Kara smacked the console in front weakly, her head falling back against the seat. Sandman was one of their best pilots out there. Those toasters were going to pay for that one, she knew that for sure.

"_Hotdog, this is Galactica Actual. Take as many down as you can. We need to divert the attention away from civilian vessels! I repeat, take them down!"_

The Admiral's voice sounded strained, anger emanating from it. Pushing her Raptor forwards faster, Kara willed for it to all be over soon. Using her fast reflexes, she pulled it upwards, avoiding raider gunfire. It flew past her, the mechanical whirring silenced by the steady hum of the raptor. It seemed to have switched targets, Kara noticed, as it followed a viper that streaked past. Time slowed as Kara watched the raider trailing, firing small bursts at the viper in front. The viper stilled in space, before imploding from the inside, scattering debris everywhere. As a part of the wing gently skimmed the raptor, she heard screaming over the comm.;

"_Frak! Galactica this is Nosedive! We have lost Gunner! I repeat! Gunner is down!"_

Kara drew in a shaky breath, keeping her emotions in check. There was no time to feel sympathy or loss. They were in the middle of a battle, people die. She hammered it into her head over and over again. However, it didn't keep her from wondering if there was some sort of injection to numb the mental pain, not just the physical.

"Lords of Kobol, hear my prayer …" Kara murmured, directing her raptor back en route to the basestars in front.

**Corridor,**

**Battlestar Galactica**

"Gaius Baltar."

Baltar stopped in his tracks, turning slowly around at his name. That voice, he knew that voice. It was calm, collected, in control. That voice haunted his dreams not that long ago, the mouth perfectly forming the word "airlock" with the same calm collectiveness as right now. Laura Roslin.

"Madam President," He acknowledged grudgingly, facing the woman behind him. She stood, arms crossed in front of her, a look of disgust on her face. Baltar felt anger slowly swell up at that. _She looks at me as if I am something particularly pleasant off of the bottom of her shoe, _he thought, "to what do I owe this dubious honour?"

Roslin smiled slightly, and he couldn't help but notice how pale her face was. He immediately attributed it to the Diloxin treatments, but somehow he knew it wasn't. In fact, something wasn't right about her. She didn't look her usual formidable self, her straight back giving way to a slight stoop. She couldn't possibly be injured, however, as she would be in Sick Bay right now, not wandering the corridors.

"That's twice now we have had the misfortune of meeting like this. Galactica being such a large Battlestar, I must say that fate has one hell of a sense of humour, does it not?" Laura remarked.

Baltar nodded silently, regarding the hatch that was open beside him and thinking quickly of a way to evade any kind of conversation with the woman in front. She was obviously still bitter about the trial, and he did not want to be on the receiving end of her anger at the apparent injustice of it. Something caught his eye, however, just behind Roslin. A glow at the end of the corridor, slowly getting larger and larger. What was a dull orange at the far end of the corridor now streaked bright yellow as it was only a short distance away.

Laura regarded the tangible worry on his face, her back to whatever was coming. She couldn't understand his sudden concern. Suddenly, he grabbed the collar of the jacket she was wearing. Roslin opened her mouth in surprise, looking shocked at his hands clutching her jacket tightly, his knuckles turning white.

"What the frak are you doing!?" She ordered, meeting his eyes. There was nothing but fear reflecting back at her, with a touch of reluctance.

"Saving your life." He replied quickly. With that, he pulled her close to him and, using the leverage of her jacket, he threw them both into the open room beside them. The force caused Laura to hit the floor hard, eliciting a groan of pain as she landed on her newly stitched wound. Baltar himself gave a shout of pain, as he landed on his knees. They lay there for a few seconds, causing Roslin to wonder what he meant by his last comment. Her silent query was soon answered however, as flames rushed past the hatch, with a deafening roar. The room shook violently from obvious impact of a Cylon missile, and the hatch slammed shut on them.

**Admiral Adama's Quarters,**

**Battlestar Galactica**

_She loves me. Kara Thrace loves me. _

It was all Lee could do not to jump and shout it out down the corridors. He was a member of the government however, and he kept his professional persona up right until he stepped through the hatch of his father's quarters. He had a meeting to attend, and Adama allowed him use of his quarters to change. As soon as he locked the hatch, however, Lee ripped the tie from around his neck, a big smile appearing on his face.

"She loves me!" He shouted, swinging the tie around and throwing it across the room, where it landed on a heap of fuel reports. Moving towards the rack, he noticed gentle additions to his father's quarters. A fluffy white dressing gown draped over a chair, a glass stained slightly with lipstick, an extra toothbrush in the head. Lee's smile faltered as he thought of his father's obvious affection for Laura Roslin. Laura could leave, break Bill's heart, and yet he obviously didn't seem to care. Maybe it was more than affection? Lee shook his head quickly, banishing such morbid thoughts about death. Right now, Lee was in love, and it was requited.

Humming softly to himself, he turned towards where a newly cleaned suit hung from a hook on the bulkhead. Lee asked for it delivered straight to the quarters, knowing he would have no time to get ready over on Colonial One. He slowly unbuttoned his shirt, shrugging it off of his shoulders. His thoughts were all on what had happened just a little while ago. Kara had kissed him. She had said she loved him. In the middle of the corridor, they had confessed their love.

The smile still graced Lee's face as he moved to softly place the shirt down on the sofa. It was then that he spotted it. A massive red mark stained part of his shirt. Confusion hit Lee immediately. How did he not notice that when he put the shirt on?

_Because it wasn't there when you put the shirt on, _a voice inside his head informed him. Lee closed his eyes, trying to collect his thoughts on everything that had happened today. When would anyone have had a chance to get something over him? … For that matter, what _was _it that stained his shirt? It looked like blood, but he couldn't figure out how someone managed to get that on him. He would have noticed at such a close range. Thinking back, Lee tried to remember all the people who could have got close enough to place blood on his shirt.

_There was the deck hand who bumped into me, _Lee thought, _but he only caught my arm, not my side. _No-one else aside from him had gotten close enough to leave that mark … well no-one else aside from-

His insides went cold, and Lee stood still. He had hugged Kara. But Kara couldn't be injured … he'd have noticed surely.

"No." Lee told himself out loud, wanting to laugh at the absurdity. She would have told him. She would have been in Sick Bay, not the corridor. But then again-

_She looked in pretty bad shape, and you did knock her over. Maybe that was something? _A knock to the floor wouldn't have caused that, he told himself adamantly, clutching a new shirt in his hand ready to put on. Ok, maybe she was slightly injured beforehand? Lee concentrated on where he met her. She would have been heading back from the small arms locker at the time, he suspected.

After quickly buttoning up his clean shirt, Lee ran out of his father's quarters, towards the small arms locker. Something didn't add up, and Lee wanted to know just what the hell was going on.

**A/N**

**Any confusion, please don't hesitate to message me and ask about it. I'll explain it to the best of my ability, I promise! Anyway, reviews are always more than welcome. **


	35. Pushing For Information

**Authors Note**

**Any misunderstanding in my story, please message me and ask. **

**Sorry this chapter took ages! Here we go!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters what-so-ever, so please don't sue. If you're still keen on suing me, then do it over the story that you think is the best. Leave me a little bit of ego as I go to prison.**

**Storage Locker 3#**

**Battlestar Galactica**

Laura Roslin lay on the floor, her stomach flat against the metal panels beneath her.

_I've got to get up, _she decided with conviction. She was still weak from her injury, but she ignored it and slowly pushed her stomach off the floor.

Her hands slowly moved in front, the sound of her bracelet scraping against the metal echoing throughout the room. A groan weakly emanated from behind her, reminding Laura that she was not alone in this predicament. This elicited a frustrated cry from the president as her memory came back full force and reminded her who occupied the room with her.

_I have _got _to get out of here _now, she thought desperately, her shaking arms trying to push her body up into a sitting position. It took too many attempts for her liking, and her throbbing side demanded attention. Grimacing, Laura looked down at her blouse, but was greeted with the sight of no blood saturating it. By some miracle, the stitches had held, persevering through the events that had brought her here.

"Thank the Gods," she whispered reverently, slowly getting to her feet. Standing up was not a good idea she realised, however, when she stumbled, a wave of nausea hitting her. Clutching at the bulkhead, she pushed herself forwards, throwing herself towards the closed hatch. As she pulled desperately at the wheel, a small voice from behind her slurred;

"Thank _God._"

"Shut up." She snapped in reply, breathing heavily as she put all of her weight behind the wheel, pushing it, pulling it, hitting it. It refused to budge, taunting Laura, trapping her with Gaius frakking Baltar. It would be ages before anyone came looking for them. There was a battle going on after all. Roslin resigned herself to a long stay and moved over to a stack of boxes located on the other side of the room. Perching herself on the edge of one of them, she watched Baltar with mild amusement, flailing about on the floor.

_Like a tortoise stuck on his back, _she thought amusedly, taking off her glasses slowly and clutching them in her hand.

Baltar lay on his back, eyes closed shut as he desperately tried to push the feeling of pain in his knees away. His short breaths, accompanied every so often by a long drawn out "frak" were the only sounds in the room.

He couldn't be in a worse position. The president, currently watching him intensely from her position across the room, was indebted to him (_not that she'd admit it of course, _he thought bitterly) and he was stuck in a room with her, this Baltar-hating, drug-induced, airlocking loony.

"Just great." he murmured, his head hitting the floor beneath him in defeat. With slow deliberation, he pushed himself up, gritting his teeth at the sheer agony of moving his legs. They held, however, and allowed him both to stand up slowly and to copy Laura's movements and stumble towards the hatch. Laura merely smiled, tilting her head at the sight, entertained by his desperation to distance himself from her.

With a sigh, she decided the speak;

"I guess I should thank you." She said resignedly. She was met with silence as Baltar slowly turned to face her, surprise apparent in his expression, eyebrows raised and his mouth forming words yet no sound coming out.

_She must have hit her head. Concussion makes people say the craziest things. _

"What makes you think she's concussed Gaius?" A smooth voice purred in his ear, "maybe she is genuinely grateful." Caprica Six slowly smoothed the lapels down on his shirt, a smile flitting across her graceful features.

"Yeah," Baltar retorted quietly, "yeah and maybe she's the one true God also!"

"What?" both women asked in unison. Baltar winced, realising that Laura had heard, and stuttered as he tried to think up of something to say.

"I said that it was no problem Madam President." Baltar lied glibly, pushing gently at the door, pleading with it just to budge the slightest bit, to give him just that tiny slither of hope. No such luck.

Caprica Six and Laura Roslin both watched him work, amusement evident on both of their faces.

"Aren't you going to sit? We're going to be here for a while. Go on, sit." Roslin indicated to the boxes scattered around the room. Baltar turned around, folding his arms across his chest, a look of annoyance on his face.

"I really think that-"

"Let me re-phrase that Gaius," Laura overrode his protest, her voice cold and firm, "you are going to sit. SIT." She ordered, her voice soaring across the room. He jumped in reply and felt Caprica Six's soft hands on his shoulder, gently pushing him down onto a box by the hatch.

"Now, now, play nicely," she whispered softly into his ear, her hands caressing his shoulder blades. He complied, relaxing at Caprica's ministrations, "you like controlling women don't you Gaius?"

Realising what she had said and what she was implying, Baltar's eyes flew open in shock, "what!? No!"

"What?" Laura asked sharply, curious as to what pulled that from him. His attention, however, was fixed on a point above his shoulder, so she persisted with the questioning, "what?"

It seemed to work, and Baltar's head quickly swivelled around to meet the president's questioning gaze. He started to fluster slightly, desperately searching his mind to what he had said;

"Err, no … no-one is going to come looking for us for a while, are they?"

"No I assume not," She replied slowly, her expression not changing at Baltar's apparent save. She decided to get to the bottom of this, "so this gives us a nice amount of time to talk. Now you were talking to someone just now, weren't you?" Laura Roslin wasn't a stranger to visions, but this was something different. He actually had someone in his mind, standing behind him, he must have. For the length of time she had known him, Laura knew that there was something about this man. Most of the time, she feigned ignorance, placed it down to his genius status. She'd had enough however, and wanted to know what the frak was really going on in that mind of his.

"What makes you say that?" Baltar asked, forcing laughter out, "must be that chamalla again Madam President, you're not well and-"

"It was an assumption." Laura replied coldly, placing her glasses back on her face, gauging his expressions.

"Well to 'assume' is to make an 'ass' out of 'u' and 'me' and-"

"Don't frak with me." She wasn't letting him get out of this one. Her stern expression promised Baltar a lot of suffering if he didn't answer her questions to her satisfaction.

"She's on to you Gaius, careful now," Caprica Six whispered, her attention solely focused on the irate president. There was no smile on the cylon's face however, and her voice was tinged with warning, "she wouldn't hesitate to see you in pain to get what she wants."

"Well that's good to know," Baltar stated sarcastically, "yeah big thanks there!"

"Is it a Six?" Laura asked smoothly, cottoning on to the conversation. He couldn't possibly keep denying it now, "you have always had a … connection … with that particular model. She left her own to be put in the brig over here for you."

"If you want to put me on trial again for something else I haven't done, then please do carry on your line of questioning. Drug-induced witnesses go down so well in court these days."

Laura Roslin just nodded, a hum of agreement emanating from the back of her throat. Her eyes lacked their usual glint, just cold and dull now looking at Gaius. She broke eye contact with him and stood up slowly, arms folded as she walked away. She was shrouded in darkness, her back leaning against the bulkhead, the furthest away she could get from him.

"Dr Baltar, my cancer has returned," she said softly, her voice holding no self-pity, no emotion at all, "now that may mean absolutely nothing to you, and I don't expect it to, but it doesn't take away from the fact that it is there, inside me, right now."

Baltar was rendered speechless, unsure as to what to say at a moment like this. It didn't look like she was letting up. Laura Roslin had a point with every speech, and she was getting to it.

"It's taking my life away, and I'm currently undergoing Diloxin treatment to stop it. Have you ever had Diloxin treatment Dr Baltar?"

Baltar shook his head slowly, captivated by the power and vulnerability coming from her stance, her voice.

"Nausea, hair loss, weariness, I could go on and on."

"I'm sorry Madam President, I-"

"I don't want your pity Gaius. I want answers, and I want them before the worst happens. Now I could get better, yes, but there is also the chance that I could not. If that's the case, I want answers from you before I am rendered speechless, unable to talk, unable to listen. I want these answers now, not on a deathbed."

She was met with silence, as Baltar went over her speech in his head.

"The woman you were with before, on Caprica, is it her?" Laura asked, slowly moving forwards, "I saw you two together. You and a Six model, right before the Colonies were attacked. Did she manipulate you? Did she cause you to give her information? Information that only you would have access to? Information that could cause a Cylon invasion and the defences to just stop working?"

Baltar couldn't answer. No words could save him now. Denying it would just flare her anger again and by telling the truth, he was admitting to mass genocide and gaining a one-way ticket through the airlock.

"Tell me!" Her voice soared, ringing out into the silence. Baltar just stared, unsure what to do.

Laura placed a shaking hand over her mouth, biting back a wave of nausea that hit her. Baltar sensed this, slowly and uneasily getting up off the box to walk over to her.

"Laura I-"

Laura took a step back, shaking her head at him. She didn't need his help, his sympathy. She needed to get out of here, away from this man, before she did something she really regretted.

"Oh for fraks sake! I try to help!" Baltar turned around angrily, walking over to some boxes, "If someone doesn't help me, I'm going to go frakking insane!!"

"Madam President?!" A distant voice called out, from behind the hatch. Roslin opened her eyes, focusing steadily on the only way out of the room. She slowly gathered her presidential façade and walked briskly over, not letting her desperation to get out show.

"Yes?" She replied, standing back suddenly as the hatch groaned and creaked. Slowly, it opened and she found herself looking into the concerned, kind face of-

"Corporal Venner." She whispered reverently. The man had helped her escape from the brig, had brought her medicine, had defied his own orders for her. She couldn't be happier to see him.

"Yes ma'am," he said, smiling in pride that she had remembered his name, "it's lucky that the hatch only had debris in front of it. Thank the vipers outside for that."

"No," She replied, shaking her head, "thank the gods. Take me to CIC please Corporal."

She didn't look back as Venner guided her down the corridor. Baltar remained in the storage locker, his back against the bulkhead, a single tear slowly running down his cheek.

"What's wrong Gaius?" Caprica Six asked, bending down in front of him, her hands caressing his face and wiping the tear away.

"How long before she finds out? How long can I keep it to myself?" He asked aloud.

"You haven't had a problem with that before."

"Times are changing, and I have to change along with them." Suddenly, with conviction, Baltar stood up.

"Would God let me repent my sins?"

"Yes." Caprica Six replied, smiling slowly.

"Then that's what I'll do."

**A/N**

**Not a Roltar comedy moment I know, but I figured a Roltar moment would be nice none-the-less. I'm sorry for the delay, I know it's been a while! All grammatical errors and spelling mistakes are my own, and reviews are much appreciated!**


	36. A Hand in Healing

**Authors Note**

**Next Chapter, here we go! All mistakes are mine! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters what-so-ever, so please don't sue. If you're still keen on suing me, then do it over the story that you think is the best. Leave me a little bit of ego as I go to prison.**

**Sickbay,**

**Battlestar Galactica**

"5 more arriving!"

Cottle turned around in dismay, watching five wounded being rolled into the sickbay, some moaning in pain, others silent, unconscious and oblivious to the situation they found themselves in. Cottle remained calm, glancing over the bodies, seeing which ones needed immediate surgery, which ones would last a few minutes unaided.

"Prep him for surgery," he announced, pointing at a body, badly burned and littered with shrapnel, "and find space for the others somewhere. They can last, but this man needs immediate attention."

"Sir." Ishay nodded at his orders and rolled the injured man behind a pair of curtains. Cottle moved quickly over to a trolley, pulling on a new pair of clean gloves. He had been on his feet for too long, but there was no other help available to him. Traffic throughout the fleet had been stopped for the battle. He was on his own.

"Frakking stupid sons of …" He muttered angrily. Operations around the clock, every minute had a new man sent in, either in need of stitches, surgery, amputation-

The last thought made Cottle shudder slightly. If there was one thing he hated in his medical career, it was performing amputations. You took part of a man's body, you took part of his soul. The amount of times Cottle had removed a limb, to find a dead, haunted look in the patients eyes afterwards. They couldn't go back to their previous duties now, not in that state. Military protocol wouldn't allow it, not even in this ragtag fleet.

"Sir!" Ishay called from behind the curtain, "he's prepped and ready and-"

Her voice slowly got quieter, ending in silence, an unfinished sentence hanging in the air. Cottle looked at her enquiringly, wondering what could bring the young woman to a halt so quickly. They had people dying around them, surely she noticed?

"If you hadn't noticed," He barked at her, trying to regain her attention, "we're in the middle of a frakking crisis! If your brain has decided to go on holiday then-"

He sighed in resignation. This wasn't working. She was focused on something else clearly, and he soon noticed that he was the only one, aside from the suffering moans of the patients, making any noise. Cottle turned around, ready to get to the bottom of this distraction, and found himself looking into the face of another doctor.

He wasn't part of the fleets medical staff, Cottle knew that much. In fact, he looked very familiar …..

"Frak." Cottle announced aloud, staring into the docile eyes of the doctor before him. It was Simon, one of the significant seven cylons. He looked different when he was healthy. Last time Cottle had seen him was when the Cylons were ravaged with a disease.

"If you want medical assistance, circuitry is that way." The old doctor stated, pointing out the hatch that Simon obviously must have entered.

"I've been sent to help you." Simon stated softly, looking around at the men in pain, crying out weakly.

"_You _want to help _us_?" Cottle asked him, fixing the man with an intense glare. Why would a cylon want to help a human? There had to be something more. Then he saw it. As Simon looked back, Cottle saw pain, _real _pain. Sympathy for the humans surrounding him. A look of knowledge, realisation. He genuinely wanted to help.

_If he wants to be worked off his feet, then go for it, _Cottle thought to himself, regarding Simon.

"Frak it," he suddenly announced, moving over to the trolley he previously obtained his gloves from and pushing it towards the Cylon, "if you want to help, then scrub up and fast! A patient over there needs some assistance and gods help me I'll trip your fuse if you sabotage me!"

Simon just smiled, nodded and set about getting to work.

"Lords of Kobol, hear me prayer," Cottle muttered, pulling back the curtain of the man he was about to operate on, "I need a cigarette."

**Colonial Raptor**

**Heading towards Enemy Cylon Basestar**

Kara clicked a button to her left, opening up a comm. channel with the enemy basestar looming right in front of her. She could see missiles loaded, exiting the basestar rapidly, streaking over her raptor, heading towards the fleet. It was gut-wrenching, watching the missiles pass her by, not being able to do anything about it. She could only hope that the fleet had jumped away by this time.

A sudden blast of sound emerged from the comm., and Kara focused her attention on persuading the cylons to let her onboard their ship.

"Brother Cavils, this is Starbuck. I request permission to come onboard."

She was met with silence for a few minutes, before an amused voice replied;

"_Kara Thrace? Didn't I have the pleasure of meeting you on New Caprica? Yes I remember now, right before Leoben took you to play happy families with him. I offered you my hand in greeting. Now, what was it you did in return again? It always seems to slip my mind…"_

Kara gritted her teeth, annoyed. She remembered that day, and she knew that Cavil asking this question meant that persuasion was going to be tough. They were obviously waiting for an answer, and Kara fought back her anger as she replied;

"I spat on your hand." _There, now just shoot me if you're going to._

"_Ahhh that's right, I remember now. The memory has just … shall we say, __**rushed **__back with startling clarity. Now Kara, what made you think that we would actually consider letting you onboard?"_

"Because I have something you want." Kara retorted, wincing as the dull ache in her stomach flared into shooting pains. She couldn't afford to sit and debate with them.

"_It must be something grand. Afterall, you wouldn't come all the way out here, risk your own demise just at the chance that we would accept this … gift?"_

"I know the way to earth."

The channel went quiet, but she could make out muttering, hurried voices, urgent tones. She hoped to the gods that they would believe her.

"_That's quite an offer. How do we know you're telling the truth though?" _The cylon speaking held a guarded tone, his voice conveying disbelief and cynicism. They wanted directions, over the comm. They were obviously going to have a hard time negotiating.

"You don't." Starbuck stated easily, shifting slightly in her seat, yearning for a more comfortable position that didn't place so much weight on her wound.

"_Then why should we risk letting you onboard?"_

"Good question. You could blow the hell out of my ship right this second, but you won't."

"_You're awfully cocky. That's a big mistake. Why won't we?"_

"Because there is a possibility that I do know the directions, and that you could reach earth. Of course, by killing me, you'll never know, and will be forced to search for it on your own for the rest of your miserable lives- at least until your batteries wear out." She added thoughtfully on the end. She was done talking, and she pushed the raptor forwards. If they let her on, then they let her on. If they didn't, then she'd plough the raptor right into their ship. She wasn't too fussed either way.

It looked like they weren't going to answer, and Kara resignedly set course for the wing of the centre basestar. Maybe she could take out more than one. She was startled out of her calculations, however, when the comm. started to crackle, indicating it was about to receive another transmission.

"_Permission granted Starbuck," _The Cavil announced in his calm voice, _"come onboard."_

"On one condition," Kara said, pausing a beat before giving them her condition, "I want to see the Hybrid first."

"_Deal, now get onboard."_

"ETA, one minute. Starbuck out."

Her plan was starting to come together.

**CIC**

**Battlestar Galactica**

"Sir, a colonial raptor has just boarded the enemy basestar."

Admiral Adama looked towards the ensign behind him, confused. _Where the frak was Dee? _The ensign looked towards him, waiting for orders. Adama shook his thoughts away from his petty officer's whereabouts, and moved quickly towards the dradis console. A bang echoed throughout CIC, causing many of the crew members to stumble, bracing themselves against various equipment.

"Have you been able to get through to D'anna?" Adama asked, looking towards his temporary XO, Karl Agathon.

"No sir," Helo replied, his hands gripping the console, "No replies. It's like they've got a death wish."

"They're taking too many hits. Why would they purposely move in front of us?" The Admiral murmured, looking up at dradis at the flashing red dot that indicated the cylon basestar currently in front of them. His gaze snapped back to the crew around him, "I'm not going to wait to find out! Helo, tell the fleet to spool up their FTL drives. We'll rendezvous at emergency coordinates."

Helo moved away, ready to send the message throughout the civilian fleet. Adama's eyes flickered towards the hatch to CIC, spotting something red flit past the door. A marine then entered, followed by Laura Roslin. Her stride left no doubt that she was in control, but as her eyes met Adama's, she couldn't mask the slight pain, not from him.

"Admiral." She acknowledged him, moving towards the centre of CIC to where he stood. Her eyes told him everything; _Not now. _

He understood, and gave a slight nod, replying, "Madam President."

"The cylon basestar, what is it doing?" She enquired, searching for answers.

"We don't know. D'anna is not accepting our requests for an open channel."

"Shouldn't we help them?"

"We've sent out all the vipers we have, but they're in our firing solution."

Roslin nodded silently, able to do nothing more than to stare at the cylon basestar on dradis, willing it to move, to get out of their way.

"Gods help them." She murmured to herself, and was surprised to hear Adama's deep voice close by, answering her plea;

"So say we all."

**A/N**

**Well there is chapter 36. Hope you've like it. Chapter 37 up soon hopefully!**

**Reviews are appreciated. **


	37. Kara Thrace's Special Destiny

**Authors Note**

**Next Chapter, here we go! All mistakes are mine! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters what-so-ever, so please don't sue. If you're still keen on suing me, then do it over the story that you think is the best. Leave me a little bit of ego as I go to prison.**

**Central Computer,**

**Enemy Cylon Basestar**

"I must admit, I'm quite surprised as to the motives of your presence here." Cavil expressed honestly, trying to keep up with the fast pace of Kara Thrace as she entered the room that was home to the ship's hybrid.

She didn't reply, keeping her focus and her energy on making it to the hybrid's side. Then she could sit down, rest, and never get up again.

_Think happy thoughts Kara, like …like … oh frak, think of __**something**__, _her mind desperately sought out something to transport her away from the path laid out before her. Leoben always said that she had a destiny, now was her time. Lee. His image entered her head immediately, his smile, the glint in his eyes when she had told him, the softness of his touch, his lips pressed against hers-

"She speaks nonsense; I don't understand what you want with her." Cavil said, bringing her out of her reverie.

"I need to see her."

"Well when you're finished, maybe we can get started on these coordinates you say you have. My other copies are a bit … incredulous … to say the least about them."

Kara moved forwards, suppressing the want to cradle her side, to take some weight off of it. There was a ringing in her ears, faint at first but slowly growing in decibels as she pushed her weary legs forward. She needed to stop, feeling bile rise at the back of her throat.

"Are you alright?" Cavil asked, the tone in his voice showing no concern.

"Yeah I'm fine. Just got off a raptor, it's been a long time since I've flown, that's all."

If Cavil was surprised or dubious of this excuse, then he didn't show it, instead moving closer to her, ushering her up to the hybrid who sat, her eyes staring blankly, in a pool of liquid.

"Reduce atmospheric nitrogen at 0.26, the spark of Gods Fire stands near, the Dying Leader who shall guide them to earth draws closer, mortality slowly leaking away, the five are now three, their identities revealed, a plague of humankind wipes the city clean, the opera house but a small stretch, filter nitrogen at 1,5,8,3,3,2. End of line."

The hybrid murmured, her head lolling slightly from side to side, her eyes never resting on the two spectators. Kara fell to her knees at the side of the hybrid, feeling pressure released as the weight lifted from her wound. Her right arm supported her, holding her body up, while her left arm slowly crawled forwards, her hand shaking as it reached the pool of liquid before her. She didn't know why she was doing, just that she had to. It was like Leoben's voice, whispering in her ear, imploring her to do it. Like an unruly child, she wanted to snatch her hand back away, say no, but she couldn't bring herself to. Kara Thrace had to do it.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Cavil spoke from behind her, his voice loud, echoing off of the walls around him. Kara paid no attention, her fingers gently touching the liquid. Her fingers dipped in, softly drawing patterns, while the hybrid continued to utter information lost on the occupants of the room. Cavil looked bored, looming over Kara, eagerly waiting for her to finish. Kara took her time, however, her hand now slowly dipping under, feeling the cold liquid surround it.

It happened in a flash. While her mind tried desperately to realise what was happening, Kara could only watch in shock as the hybrid moved. It gasped, drawing in a deep breath and its head snapped to the side, eyes boring into her own. Something grasped Kara's hand, a strong assured grip that refused to let her go. Kara's eyes closed on their own accord, colour bursting into life before her eyes. Cavil's voice distantly shouting just melded into the other noises around her, as Kara was pulled away from reality. There was no pain there, no bullet lodged in her, no cares, no worries, no burdens …

_Velvet drapes hung loosely, falling in cascades onto the floor. A polished railing caught Kara's attention as she looked around in awe. Where the frak was she? Her mouth moved, but she couldn't hear her voice over the slow music playing. Instead, she moved towards the rail, looking over it, searching from someone, anyone. _

_She was up on a balcony, burnished gold beneath her hands and she gripped the rail. Royal red carpet was laid softly beneath her feet, muffling the sounds of her shoes. Looking down, Kara noticed that these weren't the shoes she was wearing when she was with the hybrid. They had a slim heel and an open toe, the pale blue colour matching her-_

_Dress? Kara looked down, nonplussed at the sight. A long evening gown hung from her body, clinging in all the right places. It glowed in the soft lighting of her surroundings, and there were no sign of any scars, any injuries on her body. A flurry of movement caught her eye, and Kara looked over, across the room to the balcony opposite. _

_Her eyes met curious green ones, and she realised who was opposite her. Laura Roslin stood, confusion evident in her expression, mouth slightly parted in question. Kara felt compelled to talk to her, yearning to go over there. Laura did nothing, just stood, her straight auburn hair falling around her face. No trace of the cancer that ravaged her body, which is how it should be, Kara thought. Another figure suddenly appeared at Laura's shoulder, a hand placed tenderly on the railing in front of them. Laura shifted slightly, giving this mysterious person a better view, and Kara was looking into the face of Sharon._

_Sharon stared back, equally surprised, before indicating slowly to the floor below them. The entrance hall. They were to meet in the entrance hall. Kara nodded her understanding, before slowly descending down the stairs beside her, not wanting to trip or fall in the heels._

_As she reached the bottom, she saw Laura and Sharon both standing, waiting for her in the centre of the hall. Laura's arms were crossed in front of her, the usual glint of amusement absent in her eyes. Sharon paced, hands clasped behind her back tightly, her head shaking as she tried to make sense of what was happening. _

_With slight anticipation, Kara pushed forwards, her pace steady as she greeted them. When they were just a metre apart, she stopped. Silence reigned, the music playing before had gone, a mere memory imprinted in Kara's mind._

"_Where the frak are we?"_

_Kara's voice broke the silence, looking between the women for some sort of answer. This was a set-up, it had to be. _

"_The opera house on Kobol." Sharon replied, to which Laura made a noise in her throat in agreement. She didn't trust herself to speak obviously. _

"_This isn't right, I was with the Hybrid and …" Kara trailed off, wondering what in the names of the gods was going on. How did she end up here? The ease around them both suggested to her that Laura and Sharon had both been here before, both seen this place before them. _

"_I don't know what's going on," Sharon stated honestly, looking around, "the final five aren't here … Six isn't here …"_

_This was different. _

"_I know the way to earth."_

_The statement was met with silence, Sharon looking at her with confusion and Laura with disbelief. It was only then when Kara realised the words had tumbled from her own mouth. She didn't know them, yet her voice was taking on a life of its own, telling her she did. _

"_This can't be. You're not the dying leader and-"_

"_I am," Kara replied evenly, interrupting Sharon. Her hand absently travelled to her stomach, but realised that no injury was there to show them, to prove to them that she didn't have long, didn't have any energy left to carry on, "I was shot … in your quarters. I ran away to the basestar, to find answers to …" She didn't want to finish the sentence, knowing the looks she would receive for telling them about her belief in a destiny. _

"_I could feel the way to earth, I knew where it was. I had been there. The grass beneath my feet, the clean air, the smell of the seas. I was there … but you kept going the wrong way ..."_

_Sharon and Laura were speechless, each one of them pondering the times they should have listened to her, followed her. _

"_I couldn't tell you the coordinates then, but now … it's hitting me with such clarity. It's still just a feeling …"_

"_You're not the dying leader Kara. This is some sort of mistake, I just don't understand!" Sharon was starting to get frustrated, her pacing picking up, "If you're the dying leader, then how are you going to guide us to earth!?"_

"_I … I don't know," Kara said honestly, "but I know that I am," A laugh erupted from her throat and Laura looked at her surprised, "I'm the dying leader. You're all going to earth."_

_With that, more laughter ensued, met only with the disbelief etched on the other two women's faces. _

"_This isn't funny Kara!" Sharon shouted, feeling tears prick at her eyes. Kara was one of her best friends, someone who, although wary when she found out she was cylon, supported Sharon when others wanted her dead. To hear Kara talk about death in such a brash way was hurting her. _

_Kara stopped laughing, looking up into Sharon's eyes. Suddenly, she could feel her body, her real body. The ache in her side exploded into excruciating pain, causing her to stumble slightly. Laura caught her, holding tightly onto her arms as Kara settled herself onto the floor._

_The hybrid's voice echoed, screaming around the hall. Numbers, so many numbers. Laura and Sharon couldn't hear it, only Kara. She felt her throat constrict, could feel her mouth open, her lips move. Numbers came out. The numbers the Hybrid was screaming, Kara reiterated, her voice hoarse._

_Laura just looked on confused, but Sharon understood. _

"_Coordinates!" She listened intently to Kara, trying desperately to log them in her memory, to remember the numbers. However, all she could think about was Kara on the floor in front of her, clearly in pain. _

"_Fight it Kara! You're not the dying leader!"_

_After the last few numbers were pulled from her, Kara lay down, her eyes closed. Her lips were still moving however, and Laura loomed over her, trying impatiently to hear what she was saying. Her voice was faint, but her words carried such weight that they could be heard around the room. The pain spread throughout her body, ever nerve cell on fire as it travelled without mercy. _

"_Tell the old man I hear nothin' but the rain."_

"_Kara? You can tell him yourself when you come back!" Sharon assured her, trying in vain to pick Kara up._

"_Boom, boom, boom." Kara said, a smile on her lips. _

"_Kara!" Sharon shouted, but she was too late. Kara started to disappear, her body fading away before her eyes. After a few seconds, Sharon's hands were gripping thin air, clutching at nothing in a desperate attempt to bring the cocky pilot back._

**Agathon's Quarters,**

**Battlestar Galactica**

Sharon opened her eyes, a scream wrenching itself from her throat. Her hands were out in front of her, clasping the air much like she did just minutes ago.

_It wasn't real, it wasn't real. _The chant swept through her head, her mind desperate to believe it.

She would leave these quarters, go to the rec room and find Kara sitting there, a cigar in her mouth, triad cards in her hand, a sneaky grin on her lips. Everything was going to be alright, she couldn't possibly be gone. It was just Sharon's imagination, thinking the worst. Of course it was. Why had she even got so upset?

Sharon picked herself up from the floor where she found herself. She had dropped Hera off at day-care after the bodies were removed from her quarters, but still found herself looking around for her daughter. It was at that moment that Lee burst into her quarters, his breath coming in short gasps, his eyes wild and frantic, searching the place.

"Was Kara here!?" He shouted, not caring how hysterical he sounded.

Sharon looked at him blankly, caught by surprise. Things were just not adding up in her mind, and she struggled to comprehend what Lee was saying, what he was doing here.

"Was Kara in here!? Was she … was she hurt!?" The last part of the sentence was choked out, and Lee looked at the floor, searching for something. He seemed to have found it, moving quickly forward to a patch on the floor. A red stain, not yet cleaned up.

"I knew there were gunshots but … was Kara here? Is that her blood?" Lee looked at her, pleading with Sharon to lie to him, to tell him that Kara was fine. She didn't know herself.

"Caprica Six died there." Sharon stated blankly, looking at the blood.

Lee sighed in relief, looking up to the heavens in silent thanks. When he looked down, however, his face still expressed a certain amount of worry.

"Sharon I need you to focus for me, ok?"

She nodded.

"Was Kara in this room? Do you have any idea where she is now?"

Sharon thought back to the moment she had regained consciousness. She remembered seeing Laura Roslin, standing there shocked, with Caprica Six diving in front of her. She remembered seeing Tigh, and Tory, Anders and-

It hit her then. She had watched the bullets fly, in slow motion. Had seen Ander's shoot the gun, sweeping it over towards …. towards Kara.

"She was shot." Sharon whispered in disbelief. Lee closed his eyes tight, rubbing his hands over his face. _This was not happening. _

"Do you know where she's gone? Did she say anything Sharon?"

He was desperate for information, for a reason, for a location. He would bring Kara back even if that meant charging into an army of centurions with nothing but a knife. Sharon closed her eyes, trying to recall where Kara was. She hadn't said anything, but Sharon had a feeling that somewhere, she had mentioned in passing where she had gone … somewhere …

"_This isn't right, I was with the Hybrid and …"_

Sharon's eyes flew open in recollection.

"The opera house!" she shouted, causing Lee to move forwards and grip her arms tightly.

"What?"

"She's on a basestar! She's with the hybrid!"

"Frak!" Lee swore, quickly striding across the room, back out of the hatch.

"Wait Lee!" He stopped and turned around, impatience obvious.

"What!?"

"I'm coming with you! We need to tell the Admiral!"

With that, Sharon ran out of her quarters with Lee, towards CIC.

_Please Kara, still be alive._

**A/N**

**Sorry about the really long wait! I had a bit of trouble with this chapter and came unstuck a bit! If you don't understand and need an explanation, please pm and ask and … I'll try my best to explain it! Haha**

**Anywho, chapter 38 up soon.**


	38. Order Missiles?

**Authors Note**

**Next Chapter! All mistakes are mine! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters what-so-ever, so please don't sue. If you're still keen on suing me, then do it over the story that you think is the best. Leave me a little bit of ego as I go to prison.**

**CIC,**

**Battlestar Galactica**

Laura gasped and opened her eyes, feeling tears stinging at the corners. She couldn't have seen this, she wasn't there, Kara was fine, she was somewhere on the battlestar, surely. She looked around quickly to see if anyone had noticed her lapse in concentration, or her soft gasp. Adama's gaze met hers, questions burning, but she slowly shook her head again, signalling she would tell him later. He nodded imperceptibly in understanding, switching his concerned gaze back to the Dradis screen. The cylon basestar was still in front, still taking the damage.

"Gods, they're taking too many hits." Laura murmured, leaning wearily against the console in front. Her elbows rested comfortably on the console top, her hands cradling her face. Looking up in despair, she noted Bill's stoic expression. He was as troubled about this sacrifice as she was, Laura could tell. Though his features remained impassive, the slight absence of a glint in his eyes told her more than any words or expression could.

The crew around him remained silent, looking at the Dradis console with different views. Some had relief written all over their faces. They were going to live hopefully, the cylons would die. Others had the same grim look as the Admiral. They were sitting there letting someone else die for them, it wasn't right. A feeling of hopelessness spread throughout the room, seeping into everyone. They couldn't do anything about it, not until the basestar so willingly taking the hits moved out of the way.

"Sir, we could launch missiles?" Helo's voice piped up from beside Adama.

"They'd hit the basestar in front."

"If we put them on a raptor, we could-"

"-they'd either get hit, and be detonated, destroying everyone in the vicinity, or they would reach their target and still there's the risk of the basestar in front being destroyed."

"Sir, if we-"

"Admiral."

Adama turned towards the soft weary voice of the President. Her face was ashen, although she remained composed, slowly lifting herself up from the console top. She looked into his eyes, radiating warmth and support, and then flickered her gaze over to the CIC hatch. Slowly following her gaze, Adama turned around and was met by the hatch being thrown open and two people running in, pushing the marines securing the hatch out of the way.

"Dad!"

Lee ran in, his breath coming in short gasps. Alarm bells went off in Bill's head immediately as his eyes swept over his son, his attention immediately caught by the blood staining his shirt. Lee didn't give his father time to question it however, words falling out of his mouth in a rush.

"It's Kara! She's gone dad! Kara's gone!"

Sharon stepped up behind him, trying studiously to ignore her husbands questioning gaze. Helo looked at her, personal confusion overriding his duties.

"Sharon, what are you doing here? Where's Hera?"

"It's true Admiral," she spoke up, ignoring Helo and keeping her attention fixed on the Admiral and the President, "I saw it in the vision. She's on the enemy basestar."

Adama slowly turned at the word 'vision', looking at Laura. She, in turn, looked directly at Sharon, her mouth set in a grim line.

"So it's true."

"Yes ma'am."

"Hoshi!" Adama barked, causing the man in question to spin around quickly, sweat beading at his forehead.

"Sir?"

"Have any raptors left off rota?"

"Yes sir, one raptor boarded the enemy basestar. Ensign Phillips brought it to your attention moments ago, sir."

_Frak, _Adama thought angrily, looking down at his curled fist, which now rested on the console top, _I have got to start paying more attention._

"You sure it's Kara?" He aimed the question at Lee, but it was Sharon who answered quickly;

"Yes sir. She's on the basestar …. She's…." She couldn't bring herself to say 'dying', knowing that if she did, it would be the truth.

"Athena," Adama stated slowly, his voice dangerously low, "You're to get a raptor, and you're to go over there and get her back, got it?"

"Yessir." Athena saluted, relief flooding through her. If he had not mentioned it himself, Sharon would have insisted that she go after the wounded pilot.

"Good. Dismissed."

Sharon turned to leave, but was stopped by a hand desperately grasping her arm, holding her still. She looked back to find Lee, his head turned towards the Admiral.

"I would like to go too."

"You're a civilian. I cannot afford to send a civilian on a military mission-"

"-It's Kara! How can you say this, to _me!?_ As a civilian, you have no control over where I go and if I choose to-"

"-You're not getting on that raptor Lee-"

"-I'm going with her! I'm going to save-"

"-Why the frak are you doing this!?"

"Because I love her!"

Silence ensued after the revelation. Lee was breathing hard, glaring at his father. Adama stood, hands pressed against the console top in front, his expression once more stoic. If he was surprised by his son's declaration, he didn't show it.

"You're not thinking straight."

"I am, dad. I am going to save Kara. Do you know what it's like to love someone who is in danger!? Who could very well die if I don't go over there right now!?"

His statement caused Adama's eyes to close tightly. When he opened them again, Lee could see his eyes were strangely vacant, the fire of the argument gone from them. He moved closer to Lee, speaking low so only his son could hear;

"I know better than you think. But unlike you, I cannot run over and save the one I love." With that, he stood up straight, and the defeat in his eyes vanished. He spoke clearly, "you have permission to go with Athena. Now both of you get the frak out of here!"

Lee looked at his father, regretting his harsh words. Of course he loved, just like Lee did. Whereas Lee had a chance of saving Kara, Bill did not have that same chance with the one he loved. He saluted and followed Sharon out quickly, glancing back only once. His last view was of his father turning towards Laura, his hand lightly on her shoulder, her head tilted up at him, a slight soft smile on her face.

**Control Room,**

**Cylon Basestar**

"Raiders are taking hits!" A Six warned D'anna, her hand frantically dancing across the organic computers.

"More missiles on approach!"

D'anna wiped blood from her mouth, looking hopelessly around the room. Bodies lay scattered on the floor, some still alive, groaning for help or praying for death, others limp, the life gone from their eyes.

Yet the battlestar behind her still hadn't jumped away. It had sent a message, sending the rest of the ships to emergency coordinates, the Galactica itself remaining, floating behind them uselessly.

A massive bang followed, sending D'anna once again to the floor. Extricating herself from the bodies surrounding her (another Four now added to the list), she gripped the table tightly and stood back up. Her legs were shaking, but supporting her nonetheless. D'anna swept her hair back away from the cuts on her face, trying to find the Six who was at the controls, ready to give an order.

She was gone however, her body nestled between two machines, her eyes staring blankly. D'anna swore, turning to the nearest cylon, which happened to be Leoben.

"Leoben, order missiles! If I can open a link and tell the battlestar to jump, the explosion from the missiles should wipe them all out!"

"That could kill us too!" An Eight shouted, looking shocked at D'anna. The Three just nodded slowly, a small smiled playing at her lips. The Eight understood the gesture, a shiver going through her spine at the thought, but otherwise complying. It would just be the basestar and the resurrection ship left if the Galactica jumped. The blast would destroy them all, not giving them the chance to resurrect. It would be their deaths.

"Leoben, missiles ready now!"

Leoben looked up at her, his expression calm and tranquil. The peacefulness in his eyes contrasted greatly with the chaos surrounding them, the blood running down his face, the broken nose. He offered a smile, before shaking his head.

"No need D'anna."

"You're refusing orders!?" D'anna asked incredulously, looking at the Two.

"I said there's no need for missiles. They'll be gone soon enough."

"How do you know this!?"

"Because Kara Thrace is there. She's going to destroy them all."

"Kara Thrace is the harbinger of doom!"

"Yes, but not our doom. Their doom."

D'anna just stared at Leoben, confused by his words. He, however, returned his attention to the panel in front, eyes closed and palm tenderly sweeping over the controls. Something was going to happen, and D'anna didn't know if it was going to be good or bad.

**A/N**

**Sorry about the wait … again! I've been a busy bee, and my motivation has been lacking! But luckily, thanks to longer lessons and longer study periods, I can write some at school and come home and type it up!**

**Anywho, chapter 39 up soon.**


	39. She's Starbuck!

**Authors Note**

**Next Chapter! All mistakes are mine! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters what-so-ever, so please don't sue. If you're still keen on suing me, then do it over the story that you think is the best. Leave me a little bit of ego as I go to prison.**

**Colonial Raptor,**

**En Route to Enemy Basestars**

Sharon Valerii pulled the raptor upwards, narrowly missing the controlled shots of a nearby raider. It flew past her with ease, a whistling noise erupting in the space around them as it did so.

A muffled curse came from behind her, followed by the sound of buttons being pushed angrily. Lee was in the ECO chair, leaning forwards as best he could on the bumpy ride, to read the screen before him. Missiles were loaded in the tubes, ready for the aftermath of their rescue. They would get in there, get Kara and get the frak out, launching missiles on the way. When they had Kara, they were to signal to Galactica, allowing them to, in turn, signal their Cylon allies and jump away to emergency coordinates. After launching missiles, the raptor would do the same, leaving the enemies to their demise.

"Galactica Actual, this is Athena. Come in Galactica Actual."

Sharon had opened a comm. link, wanting to relay their location back to the battlestar.

"_This is Galactica Actual, go ahead." _Helo's voice surrounded her. She felt a lot more peaceful hearing him, her shoulder relaxing imperceptibly. Her husband was still alive and well, standing on Galactica. She took a deep breath.

"We're on a course bearing one-two-seven, carom two-two-one. ETA approximately six minutes."

"_Acknowledged Athena. Go get our girl. Actual out."_

"Yessir." Athena switched off of the comm. link, her hand pushing buttons with honed precision. She had been doing it for years, search and rescue operations. So why did this one bring a heavy feeling to the pit of her stomach?

She shook the thought away, turning around to her ECO in the back. Lee was staring at the screen, but she knew from his eyes that he wasn't taking anything in. He was desperately thinking about Kara, like her.

"We'll find her Lee." Her voice was soft, reassuring.

Lee slowly turned his eyes towards her, and she could see the hollowness, the pain that Kara's disappearance had brought about. His eyes were the same as his fathers, and they had the same effect. She shuddered slightly seeing them, remembering all the times that steely blue gaze was directed at her. Sharon turned back around quickly, ignoring the shuffling and muttering voice of the man behind her.

_Concentrate on the mission. It's just another stupid rookie pilot in need of rescuing. Take your time, see your surroundings, plan your moves, _Athena kept repeating the mantra to herself, clearing her mind of all dark thoughts about Kara.

A Viper swooped past the front of the raptor, causing Athena to shout "frak" and pull the raptor upwards. The viper just carried on its course, rotating and spinning to avoid the gunfire from the nearby raider. It was unsuccessful, however, and Athena saw its wing break off, followed by a loud, ominous creak as the cockpit smashed open. Decompression happened in seconds, and the viper split open, shrapnel flying overhead slowly. A muffled bang resounded and she saw a body float away, shrouded in the darkness.

"Frak!" she shouted, hurriedly opening the comm. link once again.

"Actual this is Athena! Bullseye is down! I repeat, Bullseye is down!"

The comm. was silent for a moment, leaving Athena wondering if they'd even heard her. She was answered, however, a few minutes later.

"_Athena, this is Galactica Actual. If there's a faster speed in your Raptor, please take it right now! Actual out."_

Sharon gave a shaky laugh, her confidence slowly reappearing after watching Bullseye die right in front of her. She kept her eyes fixed on the controls in front of her.

_Concentrate. Search and Rescue. This is routine practice. C'mon. _

Taking a steady breath, Sharon nudged the raptor forwards, watching in satisfaction as the speed slowly raised, leaving the debris of Bullseye's Viper behind her.

**Storage Locker 3#**

**Battlestar Galactica**

The storage locker was dark and the hatch only partially open, letting in a slither of light. Baltar sat down on a box on the far side, head cradled in his hands. He gripped his hair, tugging at it in desperation.

"What's wrong Gaius?" The sultry voice caused his hands to loosen, and they busied themselves rubbing his face. Caprica Six brushed past him slowly, before pulling up her dress slightly and kneeling down in front of him. With care, she extricated Baltar's hands and covered them with her own, letting the heat permeate through to his.

Baltar looked up slowly, his eyes wild with despair. Caprica frowned, small lines appearing on her otherwise flawless face. Her brow furrowed in confusion at Baltar's obvious discomfort.

"Gaius?"

"I saw you." His statement was met with more confusion. What was he talking about?

"I went out of that hatch," He nodded his head towards the hatch in question, "and I saw you being carried past."

"What are you-?"

"-You looked at me. Your eyes," He laughed softly, still in shock of what he had seen, "you were dead. You had been shot."

Caprica Six opened her mouth, but no words came out. No words could do any justice right now.

"When will it end?" He whispered, looking into her eyes, pleading with her, "when will it all stop?"

"Bad things happen Gaius, because God allows them to. It's part of His plan. He-"

"-What can I say or do to stop this happening to me?"

Caprica pulled Baltar's face gently to her own. He was feeling the weight of his decisions, all the bad things that he had brought about. They were piercing his heart; he wanted them to go away. He wanted to-

"Repent."

"What?"

"Repent your sins Gaius. Show God that you are truly sorry for your mistakes. Show Him Gaius and He will make the suffering stop."

"How?" Baltar asked in a reverent whisper.

"Pray to Him Gaius. Let God see your remorse. Let Him forgive you."

"I … I repent." He whispered in reply, his eyes closed tight and his head hung low.

Silence reigned in the storage locker. Caprica Six had gone, her warmth seeping away from him. Baltar sighed, his head snapping upwards, eyes roving towards the ceiling.

"I repent, okay!? Make it stop! Make it all stop! The frakking war! The frakking deaths! I repent!" He stood up slowly, eyes still intent on a position above him, now glinting with anger.

"I frakked up! I, by my own hand, caused the death of thousands, millions! And you know what!? I didn't even feel guilty about it!"

A bang erupted, echoing throughout the corridors near him, sending out a shuddering blast. The hatch, once again slammed shut, the impact causing Baltar to swing sideways, falling to the ground.

He lay there for a few moments, his right cheek pressed flat against the cool metal beneath him. He felt the anger and worry subside, replaced with an overwhelming sense of peace. Is this what it felt like to have the burdens lifted off of his shoulders? It felt good, Baltar decided, closing his eyes softly.

A hand slowly caressed his left cheek, trailing down his smooth jaw and tracing his lips.

"I do now. I repent." Baltar whispered, welcoming the touch, slightly leaning into it.

"I know you do Gaius." Caprica's low, soothing voice was music to his ears, "and God has heard."

"Can He forgive me?"

"Yes, He can Baltar. He has."

"Will it all stop?"

"Soon enough." Baltar's eyes were closed, so he couldn't see the sadness in her eyes as she said it, or the delicate sad smile that graced her lips. Instead, he sighed and nestled further into her hand, his breathing evening out.

**Central Computer,**

**Enemy Cylon Basestar**

Kara gasped, pulling her hand back out of the hybrid's grip. The hybrid returned to its normal position, looking vacantly out at the wall opposite. It started talking again, the mutterings echoing around the room. The occupants of the room, however, were not paying attention. Kara slowly raised herself from the floor, resting on her hands and knees, head hanging low. Gritting her teeth against the pain, she lifted her head slightly to see Cavil, kneeling down beside her.

"The dying leader draws close. Every particle that draws together creates another life. The Two that die are forever more lost in existence. No words that are uttered shall be done without purpose. The dying leader calls. It is time now. End of line."

The hybrid's monotonous voice relayed the messages, repeating phrases and whispering computer and system observations. Cavil offered his hand to help Kara up, looking slightly concerned. Kara, however, refused his offer, and slowly lifted her upper body up, resting all of her weight on her knees.

Her hand slowly traced her crumpled uniform and she felt the outline of the explosives on her body. She had set them while on the raptor, knowing that she would not have a chance when she reached the basestar. The Cavils were suspicious and would want to remain close to her, she surmised that much and wasn't disappointed. Since she boarded the ship, the One hadn't left her side, constantly asking questions, falling behind her to make sure she didn't run away.

_Like I can, _She thought derisively, her thoughts automatically moving to her side, the life slowly seeping out of her as she sat on her heels. Cavil had stood up now, dusting his hands, his back to her, and all pretence of interest gone.

"If you're quite finished," He stated, turning his head slightly and indicating her to get up, "we'll meet up with my brothers and we can … discuss … how best to get to earth."

"Yeah," Kara murmured, pushing her body slowly upwards. She stopped halfway however, in a crouching position, "one slight problem though."

"What's that?" Cavil turned around fully, looking at her confused. The sickly smile that graced his features dimmed slightly.

Quick as she could with her injury, Kara swept her foot outwards, leaning heavily on her other leg planted on the floor. She felt her leg rush by, sweeping an arc, before connecting successfully with another pair of legs. Crying out in surprise, Cavil crumpled to the ground, his knees cracking against the floor.

"Frak!" He shouted, wincing and panting as pain streaked through his legs.

"You forgot that I'm one crazy motherfrakker, and you," She slowly towered over him, body bent slightly in a more comfortable position. He noticed something glint in her hand. Unconsciously, her hand rubbed over it, feeling its smooth surface, her thumb circling the button. She smiled, feeling a weight leave her shoulders, "Well you're a toaster."

"You wouldn't." His ears were ringing, panic spreading within him. "You're frakked up, you're crazy! You're-"

"I'm Starbuck." With one last smile, her eyes lighting up in amusement, she pressed the button. Kara's last thoughts as she felt the pressure consume her, was how she thought she saw blue eyes looking at her from the light. Lee's eyes. She was going to Elysium.

**A/N**

**Hopefully the wait hasn't been TOO long. I thank you for your reviews and patience! **

**Chapter 40 should be up soon enough!**


	40. This is NOT frakking happening

**Authors Note**

**Next Chapter! All mistakes are mine! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters what-so-ever, so please don't sue. If you're still keen on suing me, then do it over the story that you think is the best. Leave me a little bit of ego as I go to prison.**

**Colonial Raptor,**

**En Route to Enemy Basestars**

The centre basestar exploded. The flashes and flames, the bright white light as it shattered from within, caused Sharon to look away and shield her eyes. The parts of the basestar flew outwards, with such force that the others were caught in the storm. The debris struck the enemy ships, causing them to also ignite in a chain reaction, the resulting explosion destroying everything in its path. The raptor holding Sharon and Lee pulled away quickly, giving a short burst of speed as it flew backwards. It happened quickly, too quickly to comprehend what was going on. It was only when it was over, when charred ships drifted lazily by, that it dawned on the two pilots what had happened. The enemy was destroyed from within. The Cavil's were no more, but along with the Cavils went-

"NO!" Lee screamed, his eyes wild as he looked at the scene before him. This couldn't be happening! Kara couldn't be- "No! Kara! This isn't frakking happening!"

Lee's voice grew hoarse, constantly cursing, calling her name, shouting in an agony that ripped right through him. He moved slowly, his body a lead weight, trapping him in the raptor, away from Kara, away from where he wanted to be. Easing himself out of the small chair, Lee fumbled towards the front of the raptor, oblivious to everything around him. Through the glass he could see debris drifting away, small steady explosions still burning away at the remains. It seemed to go on forever.

He ignored the presence of Sharon beside him, who sat numbly, her eyes wide with shock. She was talking to Kara just moments ago. She didn't know her plan was to do _this. _Sharon shook her head slowly, her jaw still slack. Kara Thrace, one of her friends, one of the only people to accept her and treat her as a human when everyone else looked on in disgust. Gone. She was gone now, only shattered basestars remained.

Lee shuffled beside her, and hit a comm. button, his hand cupping his ear where the receiver was. He wasn't giving up so easily. Kara was out there, she wouldn't just admit her love and then die like that. The Gods wouldn't be that cruel, surely? _Unless it was planned, _a voice stated quietly in his mind, _she knew it all along. She just didn't want any bad feelings left between you two. She wanted a clear conscious to get her into Elysium. _

"No!" Lee shouted again, to assuage the voice, the doubts. He turned his attention back to the comm. and it took all of his effort not to shout to the gods. Instead he turned his attention to the broken basestars in front.

"Kara!"

No reply.

"Kara! Starbuck! I know you're out there Kara and I-" His voice failed him, faltering as reality hit him, "-Gods, Kara, come back! We're in a raptor, en route to you now. Where are you!?"

There was no reply, only silence broken occasionally by a loud bang as pieces of ships collided. Maybe she was unconscious? Or her comm. was broken?

Sharon's hand gently covered his that was resting, white-knuckled, on the controls in front. It was meant to be a comforting gesture, but Lee couldn't feel it. He could only feel the large cold absence beside him. Sharon started to talk, but he couldn't listen to what she had to say.

"Lee, she's not out there. She told me-"

"Shut the frak up!" He stated, his voice trying to control the fury he felt at her resignation. He failed, his voice quivering, "Don't you frakking _dare _tell me that she's dead! She trusted you! She wouldn't give up on you when you put two rounds in my dad's chest! You're so easy to give up on her though!"

Sharon's eyes flickered with a deep sadness, before she started to reply. She was cut off, however, by the static of the comm. as it came to life.

Lee's eyes lit up, his posture relaxing. _See? _He thought scathingly, directed at Sharon who just sat silently, looking out eagerly at the remains, _I told you to trust Kara! I knew she would find a way to contact us!_

"Kara! What is it!? Where are you!? We're pulling the raptor towards the edge of the debris now, if you can-" His relief was cut short, however, when a voice spoke through the comm. and Lee's heart sank when he realised that it was not Kara's voice.

"_Athena!? Do you copy!? This is Galactica Actual! I repeat, do you copy?"_

Helo's voice came through, his tone laced with urgency and worry. Lee's mouth opened to respond, but he found all words leave him. He silently handed the control of the comm. over to Sharon, who started to press buttons with shaking hands.

"Galactica Actual, this is Athena. We read you loud and clear." Her voice was small and she willed no tears to leak from her eyes. The hope that had welled up within Lee had rubbed off on her, and she felt it shatter, crumble much like the basestars before her. Lee sank down into the seat next to her, his face pale, his eyes desperately searching the chaos surrounding them. Searching for something, anything, to tell them that Kara was alive.

"_What the frak just happened Athena?"_

Sharon couldn't answer, her voice dying in her throat.

"_Athena?" _Helo called out desperately, trying to soothe her, _"Athena please respond! What happened!? Dradis picked up a detonation and the radar reads no contact. Athena!? Do you copy!? Did you get Starbuck?"_

She shook her head imperceptibly. She couldn't tell them what happened. She didn't know herself. All she knew was that when they got back to Galactica, there was going to be one hell of an uproar. She didn't respond, tuning out the sound of the comm. It was only when she saw a shifting figure out of the corner of her eye did she pay attention to what was going on. Lee had leaned forwards, closer to the comm. itself.

"This is … Apollo here." He emanated defeat, his voice cracking under the strain of the events that had occurred.

"_Apollo? Where is Athena? Could someone out there please tell us what the frak just happened!? Where is Starbuck?!"_

Lee offered one last hopeful glance out at the remains of the enemy ships. He silently begged for something, anything. A sign to tell them she was here, somewhere. They received nothing. Lee's heart shattered, and he heard his voice distantly say;

"She's gone. Kara is gone again. She's dead."

**CIC,**

**Battlestar Galactica**

"_She's gone. Kara is gone again. She's dead."_

Silence reigned within CIC. Helo, his mouth now a grim line, slowly dropped his hand holding the receiver, needing time to process the information. His brow furrowed slightly, and he looked towards the Admiral for support. This was surely some kind of bad joke? Starbuck didn't die. She couldn't. Last time they thought she did she had shown them, she had come back from the brink, still smiling.

All heads turned towards Admiral Adama. The tension in the room was palpable, suffocating the occupants. Adama didn't notice, his ears ringing from the latest news. He always tried to prepare for the worst, but never had it actually come to that. He told himself there was a possibility that this would happen, but it didn't make it any more comforting. There was still the hole in his heart, ripped out by his 'daughter'. His gaze was steady, looking across the room, his blue eyes alight as they pierced Helo. No words were needed. Helo got his answer then. He pulled the comm. unit back up to his mouth.

"This is Galactica Actual. Return to the nest. I repeat, return to the nest."

The order went out to both the raptor and all vipers that were hovering around. They could all hear the sorrow in his steady voice.

It was at that moment that Adama finally did something. His head slowly hung, as if his neck couldn't support the weight any longer. His hand, which previously was splayed on the desk in front, tightened into a fist. It was the slightest of movements, but it broke the spell. The crew diligently went back to work, every so often throwing a cautious glance towards their military leader.

Adama's thoughts were solely revolving around Kara however, and so he did not notice the looks of sympathy or understanding.

_She's gone again. _

A hand came up and gently rested on his shoulder. He wanted to force it away, to be left to think in peace, but his mind was too troubled to order the reaction. Besides, the hand was not a gesture of sympathy, or a gesture of understanding. It was a gesture of support and Bill felt himself leaning into it, welcoming the touch.

Laura inwardly sighed with relief as Bill didn't push her away. When she heard the comm. state that Kara was dead, Laura felt a numbness grip her. She knew it was going to happen, Kara said as much in her vision, but it still didn't de-sensitise her, or make her any less distraught at the news. Kara had come to be something of a family member to her, much like an unruly teenage daughter, always getting herself into trouble and getting herself out of it with as much ease. Laura smiled fondly at the thought. Kara Thrace sure was something. Laura couldn't even imagine what Bill was going through, having already lost Starbuck once before. She offered him the only thing she could as she saw his stoic expression crumble, as she saw the pain radiate from him. She offered him her boundless support.

"XO Agathon." She tried to be strong, for both of them. Helo looked up slowly, disbelief etched on his features. This was surreal to him, to them all.

"Madam President?" He asked, faltering slightly, not understanding.

"You have," She waved a hand carelessly around CIC, signalling to him that he was now in command and that he should stay strong, if not for himself, then for all of them. She could depend on him to remain strong. Bill was in no fit state, "you have the deck."

The comment seemed alien as it rolled off of her tongue. She wasn't good with military terms, but Helo's nod of acceptance showed that he understood her order. He was now in charge. With a salute, Helo moved away towards damage control, checking with crew members as he went.

Laura turned back towards Bill, who hadn't moved an inch. Her hand gripped his shoulder, applying pressure to let him know that she had a plan, that she was there for him. Her other hand gripped his forearm and with slow deliberation, she tugged him, silently begging him to move. He did so without question, and it worried her. Laura was always one step behind him as she guided him slowly to the hatch in CIC. Guards moved aside for her, confusion evident on their faces. They had been standing outside the hatch, and so had not heard the news. Laura ignored their questioning faces, instead concentrating solely on getting Bill back to his quarters, before he collapsed.

**Control Room,**

**Cylon Basestar**

D'anna looked at the stats around her, disbelieving. Liquid from broken computers pooled at her feet, but she did not pay attention. The one machine she was looking at was alright, though slightly malfunctioning. _It must be, _thought D'anna, _because there is no way that all the basestars could disappear just like that._

It had happened just seconds ago. Where five basestars were sitting, there was now nothing. Shattered pieces of their brother Cavil's ships floated aimlessly, groaning as metal hit metal. D'anna couldn't believe it, she refused to believe it.

Looking around her in a daze, D'anna saw the bodies littering the floor. Her brothers and sisters, staring blankly, their hands loosely touching as they desperately grabbed out before the light faded within them. They had won, apparently, but the cost was too high. How _had _they won? The thought shoved its way back into the forefront of her mind and she looked towards the only person who had remained calm throughout, the only person who could probably explain it.

"Leoben!" She turned slowly towards the Two, whose mouth was now a twisted smile, relief evident in his eyes.

"Yes D'anna?" He asked complacently, his hand gently melding with the controls.

"You knew this was going to happen."

"I knew she had a destiny," he corrected, his eyes turning towards her. The blood was already drying on his face, his hair crisp with the dark red liquid, "I knew she was special. The Dying Leader."

"Kara Thrace," D'anna confirmed, trying to wrap her mind round what had happened, "Kara Thrace did this?"

"Yes."

"She was dying?"

Leoben sighed, and nodded his head.

"Life was draining from her physically. She had a mortal wound."

"So … that's it? She was dying and decided to take the Cavils with her?"

"The Dying Leader shall lead them to the Promised Land. She will lead us to Earth D'anna."

"She's dead Leoben!" D'anna was struggling to understand, and was starting to get frustrated by it, "how can she lead when she's dead!?"

"Who said she had to be alive to lead?" Leoben smiled once again, offering no further explanation.

D'anna sighed and turned around, looking at the floor. A hand lay there, lifeless. She looked up again, feeling bile rise at the back of her throat. Too many deaths.

"Would the humans have the coordinates? Would they know the way now? Would Adama now know where Earth is?"

"They might do."

"Then I think," D'anna smiled slightly, although it did not reach her eyes, "we should go over there and negotiate."

**A/N**

**Biggest apologies for the time it has taken!! I'll try and be quicker from now on, honest!! I hope my slowness on updates will not stop you from reading this story still! Oh and I've bought BSG 4.0 on DVD and it is well worth buying! Please PM me if there are any queries about my story so far!**


	41. The Worst Day

**A/N**

**As you've probably noticed (well ... i hope you have ;)) i haven't updated this story in .... forever. I no longer have a computer at home with the internet, so i haven't been able to write as often as i used to and my internet access is limited to say the least! I have 2 chapters done and i'll post them now, but i implore you to be patient with me because i only have access to internet rarely!**

**Reviews and criticisms are MORE than welcome because i have no spellcheck etc. so i need to know! :D**

**Admiral Adama's Quarters,**

**Battlestar Galactica**

The hatch burst open, letting in the anger and sorrow of the man that forced it. Admiral Adama stormed in, stopping in the middle of the room. He wildly looked around him, searching for something, anything to keep him from the imminent breakdown. He needed to remain strong this time. His head ached from the thoughts rushing in, and he trembled with the sudden heavy weight of sorrow.

The ship. He saw it, sitting placidly on the coffee table in front of his couch. The last time Kara had gone, he had gripped it in his hands and had preceeded to destroy it completely. The figure Aurora sat proudly on the front, the constant reminder that she was dead. Then she had returned. The ship had been repaired, much like his heart. It was a slow meticulous process but he had succeeded. The ship was finished, repaired, whole again. But now?

She was gone again. Adama wanted so much to pick the ship up, crush it, wrangle it, throw it across the room, scream. He wanted to unleash hell. His cool, calm exterior was diminished, leaving raw fury. This wasn't fair! Why did the crew have to be put through it all again? Why did his son have to mourn her loss a second time? why did _he _have to?

Kara was dead again, Tigh was a frakking cylon ... he breathed heavily, trying valiantly to control the overwhelming hatred and sorrow. Without a doubt, it was the worst day of his life. With a strangled cry, he looked away from the moel ship and strode over to where he kept his alcohol, hoping to drown in the bottle or at least numb the pain.

"Bill?"

The voice was soft, unsure. Laura Roslin cautiously stepped into his quarters, dismissing the guards outside. Thankful, they walked away, eager to miss the scene that would probably unfold. She kept one of her hands on the hatch, clutching at the wheel. When there was no hostility, no outward orders telling her to go away, she slowly closed the hatch behind her. She could only see the back of him as he hunched over his alcohol, but it was more than enough. His shoulders were slumped, his head hanging in defeat.

"Lt Gaeta," her voice broke slightly, but she kept going, trying to gain strength, "is watching CIC for you. Lt Agathon is also there."

"Thankyou." Adama stated, his back still to her. She could hear the restraint in his voice.

"Are you sure you need Ambrosia?" Roslin asked softly, moving further into his quarters. Adama didn't react to her question and carried on pouring his drink, his hands steady. Laura sighed inwardly. She needed to get him to open up, or else it would build and build, eventually resulting in some poor recruit getting a verbal lashing.

"You need to face this." She said simply, folding her arms.

He stopped pouring, methodically screwing the lid back on the bottle. Slow, precise. He picked up his glass and took a long sip, letting the alcohol burn his throat. He still didn't turn around and Laura wondered what was going through his head.

"That will be all." He replied, his voice cold. Bill made his way over to the couch, still refusing to look at the President who stood in the middle of the room, a fixed smile on her lips. She refused his order, instead taking measured steps towards the Admiral. He didn't look up, keeping his gaze fixated straight ahead. There was a photo on the wall opposite. He kept treasured memories on the bulkhead opposite. There were many photos, one of him with Lee and Zak, one of him and Laura, one of him and Kara-

He tore his eyes away, the memories too painful. She was smiling in the picture, her eyes lit up in amusement. Adama himself had a dry smile, obviously being told a funny story from the Galactica's cockiest pilot. Times like that were what they all fought for. It seemed irrelevant now, the fighting. Why fight for these things when most don't get to enjoy them?

He felt a hand grip his forearm and looked down. Reality hit him and he remembered where he was, what he was doing. Laura gripped his arm, reassuringly. He didn't pull away, which relieved Laura, and in fact placed his own hand on top of hers, encasing it. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her visibly relax, now sure that he didn't want her to go. He didn't. As much as Bill hated to admit it, he needed someone there for comfort and support. He couldn't think of a better person.

"She's dead." He said, pulling the glass of Ambrosia back up to his lips.

"Yes, she is." Laura replied shakily, nodding. She placed her other hand lightly on his shoulder.

"She's dead and my XO is a cylon."

Laura merely sat there, at a loss for words. Within the space of a day he had lost a 'daughter' and his best friend. One was killed and the other was worse than dead, he was the enemy.

"You found common ground with Sharon Valerii. You reinstated her back into the Colonial Fleet. Can't you give Colonel Tigh the same benefit of the doubt?"

"Can you forgive Tory? Can you go each day, seeing her face and thinking 'this woman is my enemy' and still let her do her job? Can you entrust your life to her?" He asked, his eyes piercing her. He wasn't asking a rhetorical question. He genuinely wanted to know, he needed guidance. She shook her head slightly.

"I need some level of objectivity here, Laura. I can't keep him as my XO, knowing what he is. I can't take the chance."

"Tomorrow we are going to go to the brig and we're going to face them, together."

"Keep a united front?" Bill asked, forcing a slight smile.

"It's a pleasant idea, isn't it? Military and Civilian government working together."

His mind screamed at him, reminding him of Kara. How could he be sitting here chatting amiably when Kara had just died?

"I need to find Lee." He drank the last of his Ambrosia, gritting his teeth as it left a burning trail in his throat. Rubbing his hands together, he felt the roughness of his wedding ring against his other hand. Usually it was a feeling he would put to the back of his mind. It wasn't noticeable. For some reason, however, everything wanted to hurt today. Bill sighed and removed the ring, throwing it on the coffee table. Everything was so meaningless now. Kara, his 'daughter', had just died and he was still mourning the loss of his ex-wife. He couldn't even remember why he was mourning her. He felt nothing now. Too many people had died for him to keep the guilt of each individual since before the attack on the Colonies.

Laura watched him remove the ring with interest, but didn't probe any further into it.

"You need to find Lee?" She asked, trying to regain his attention.

"Yes. He's probably taken it alot worse than me. I need to see him."

Laura stood up, holding out her hand. Bill looked at her, confusion written across his face.

"You're going to find Lee and i need to go see Doctor Cottle before he smokes himself into a coma. It would be irresponsible of us both to go our separate ways, think of the havoc we might cause."

He was thankful at her for trying to inject some kind of lightness into the situation, but found that he could not even force a smile. Adama just nodded, gripping her hand strongly. With one last look at the photo before him, _Kara was dead,_ he left the quarters with Laura, looking to mourn with his son.

**A/N**

**Review/criticise!**

**By the way, The Oath is by far the best episode i've EVER EVER SEEN!**


	42. Desperate Measures

**A/N**

**Ok this is the 2nd of the 2 chapters i wrote. I'll try and write the next one very very soon! **

**Pilot's Conference Room,**

**Battlestar Galactica**

The raptor journey had been neverending. Sharon silently working the controls, her eyes never leaving the panel before her. If she did, she probably would have cried. False tears. Mechanical tears. She didn't know. She wasn't _there _when she first met Starbuck, not really. No-one would know, no-one _could _know, what Lee was going through.

He looked at the board, indicating what pilot was on CAP rota, what pilot was CAG, what group was green, red, yellow, blue in their training. Starbuck had walked in here so many times. She had filled the room, her laughter brightening the place. It seemed darker here now. Maybe it was because he forgot to turn on the lights, he didn't know. It just felt different. Desolate.

Why was he even here? It was a good question, one he pondered as he scanned the callsigns up on the board. There was no Apollo there, there hadn't been for a while. He wasn't looking for his own name though, he was looking for - There it was. Sitting proudly at the top, underneath CAG. Kara "Starbuck" Thrace. He needed to see her name so desperately, to know that this woman had actually at some point physically existed. It wasn't just a dream, one that he now wanted to wake up from. It was real, and suddenly, Lee realised, it was now all the harder to deal with.

She said that she loved him. She had kissed him. The very same day she had - did she know? He felt anger burst through a dam wall in his heart. Did she know what she was going to do? Was this some sort of sick joke to her, or a last pitying thought to poor little Lee Adama, that guy who was besotted. He clenched his hands tight, his breathing starting to get heavier, more erratic. She didn't love him, she didn't care!

He wanted to scream, he wanted her there in front of him, he wanted to know. Their relationship had never been perfect, he knew that. Kara had constantly turned him away, afraid to let him into her life. She was engaged to his brother Zak, after all. But now, just when things were right, she was gone. He wanted to curse the Gods, curse the cylons, curse anything that could be considered a factor in her demise.

The hatch opening and closing was lost on Lee as he continued to study the board, anger still pumping through his veins.

"Lee." The voice was low, hoarse. Oh great, he now had to put up with his dad during this ordeal.

"She's gone, dad." Lee's voice was tight, controlled, fury reverberating through every bone.

"Yeah, she's gone." defeat, sorrow. He had obviously accepted her death already. Why wouldn't he? he was never the emotional type, the one who didn't cry at his own sons funeral.

"Good to see you care."

Adama's brow knitted together, his eyes piercing Lee. Lee didn't care, however. He had so much anger, so much hatred. He needed a target, and one who so willingly entered the room would do just fine.

"How can you say that?" Adama asked quietly.

"How can _I _say that!? All of this has happened before and all of this has happened again, dad! It's Zak all over again! Is that what this is to you!?"

Adama remained silent, his expression inscrutable. Lee's tirade continued and he felt his voice rip from his throat with such venom that it surprised even himself.

"Was Zak just a practice funeral, huh!? Wanted to see if you could _not _mourn the loss of someone close to you!? I guess it's easier when everyone around you dies! You have that little switch, same ones the cylons have!"

Lee breathed heavily, and it wasn't until afterwards when he was greeted by just silence, that he realised he was crying. He pulled his hand up to his face and wiped the tears away with the heel of his hand.

"Why do the ones we love always die?"

"I don't have an answer for that." Adama replied evenly, his voice distant.

"She told me she loved me. For one second, i believed her." Lee admitted quietly, feeling his anger slowly ebbing away. He needed to shout, get it off of his chest. He felt lighter now, although Kara still weighed heavily on his mind.

"You don't now." It wasn't a question from the Admiral, it was a fact.

"I used to laugh, you know, when people said 'life's too short'. They were crazy. I mean, living is the longest godsdamn thing you can do." He took a deep breath, exhaling the anger that was left in him.

"But now," he continued, trying desperately to say what he thought, "i see the times i wasted, the times we both wasted, Kara and I both. What was the point? It left us with minutes. Minutes before she died. She told me she loved me and then she died."

"Lee-"

"-I should have told her before. Frak what we both were worrying about. Frak the hard decisions and the consequences. I could have had so much longer ..."

Adama slowly moved forwards, not knowing how to comfort his own son. He felt bitter at that. Maybe Lee had a point when he was shouting ...

He didn't notice his father as he drew closer. His gaze was fixated on something else. It had caught his eye just moments ago, a metal treasure hanging off of the Admiral. _What the frak am i even thinking? Am i really considering this?_

_Yes, you are, because Kara Thrace is dead, _A voice screamed at him, encouraging him to act fast, _can you really imagine your life without her in it?_

"No," Lee whispered brokenly, "no i can't."

"You can't what?" Bill looked at Lee, concern etched on his face. What the frak was his son saying?

"I'm so sorry dad."

"Lee, what are you-"

Before Adama could finish his sentence, Lee's arm shot out and his fingers clumsily grasped at the gun in the holster that Adama kept around his waist.

Bill realised what was going on, but he was too late. Lee pulled the gun out with ease, his finger revelling in the idea of squeezing the trigger. The gun slowly came towards his own head, the nozzle of it resting comfortably on his temple.

Adama's eyes widened as he watched the events occur before him. He couldn't believe as Lee put the gun to his own head.

"Lee," Adama ordered, "stand down!"

"I love her so much," Lee gritted his teeth, and tears once more stung his eyes, "and she's gone! i love her so frakking much!"

"Think about what you're doing," Adama whispered, "you're being stupid. I told you to stand down, and that is an order."

Lee closed his eyes, tuning his father's voice out. The less he heard from him, the better. It was only when his finger flexed against the trigger of the gun that he heard it.

_What the frak do you think you're doing Lee?_

Her voice was a siren, calling to him. It was the sound of an angel, drawing him into her embrace.

_Lee, i need you to listen to me. Put the frakking gun down, NOW. Listen to The Old Man, don't do this!_

Lee wanted so badly to refuse her wishes, to pull the trigger. However, he felt his hand shake slightly and he realised that he couldn't do it. Kara was telling him to put the gun down and he could no nothing but obey.

"I love you Kara Thrace." He whispered aloud, hoping she could hear him. He didn't have to worry however, as the soft voice of Kara replied.

_I love you too Lee Adama._

A hand shot out and grabbed Lee's wrist roughly, pulling the gun away. Lee didn't care what was going to happen to him now. He had heard her voice, she really _did _care about him. Adama's voice was low, speaking directly into Lee's ear so he couldn't help but hear the words.

"You actually considered it. Was she worth that much, Lee? Was she worth your own life?"

His voice was hard, angry at the thought that his son would be so selfish, considering taking his own life.

"My life," Lee confirmed, "and so much more."

"Mr Adama," The Admiral holstered his gun again, his voice authorative, "i am hereby relieving you of all of your duties for a fixed period of time, which will be determined by both myself and the President. Now get off of my ship."

Lee didn't reply. Instead, he strode out of the conference room without a backwards glance at his dad.

Adama stood for a moment in the room, breathing heavily as he mulled over what Lee had said to him. All the things he had said, each one an arrow piercing his heart. It was another round of bullets in his chest. However, his thoughts didn't focus on the insults thrown at him, it didn't focus on the blame or the guilt or the harsh words.

_"i see the times i wasted, the times we both wasted. What was the point? It left us with minutes. Minutes before she died."_

They had danced around eachother, Bill could see it from the moment Lee stepped aboard the Galactica for the decomissioning ceremony. After New Caprica, nothing was the same for either of them, something had changed. They continued to toe the line, avoiding the elephant in the room. Finally Lee had told her how he felt, she had reciprocated. Now she was dead.

Adama felt his stomach clench. How much time did any of them have really? Anyone could die at any given moment, yet procedures and past hurt kept them all apart. He tightened his left hand into a fist and felt the absence of the metal ring biting into his skin. It felt good, he was free.

Kara had gone out in flames, doing what she loved. Before she died, she had some happiness with Lee. As much as Adama wanted to cry, to shout and scream, to throw something, he couldn't. Kara chose to sacrifice herself for the fleet and her demise was how she wanted it. With a heavy sigh, he looked up at her name on the board.

_Kara "Starbuck" Thrace._

He gave a small smile.

"What do ya hear Starbuck?"

There was no-one there to reply, but as he turned around to walk out of the quarters, he could of sworn he heard her voice, whispering to him.

_Nothing but the rain, sir. _

"Then grab your gun and bring the cat in." He strode through the hatch.

_Boom boom boom._

The hatch clanged shut.

**A/N**

**In the words of my stupid deputy headteacher : "if you have been, thanks for reading" (man i hate him!)**


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